Wedding Bells and Blues
by AndreaLyn
Summary: UPDATED. Lizzy and Darcy are in the midst of another infamous fight and someone new has entered Lizzy's life and Darcy does not approve. Lizzy & Darcy seek Lydia in a valiant attempt to stop Wickham from getting his way and Lizzy can't get her mind of Will's 'rest of my life' proclamation.
1. Prologue

Elizabeth Bennet had never spent so much time in banquet halls in her entire life. 

Moreover, she had never been so utterly frustrated with her boyfriend or her parents and especially her younger sisters. Everything was seemingly a joke to each and every one of them and she was growing so tired of it, which was more than a woman of her age of twenty-three should honestly be feeling. She was supposed to be young and carefree, and yet, between her boyfriend's glowering and Mama's obsessing and Papa's indifference and Lydia's horrid behaviour, Lizzy was at wit's end. The only thing keeping her together was the knowledge that all of this would soon be over and it i was /i for an excellent cause. She was wandering the parquet floor of yet another banquet hall with Darcy in tow, watching her sister ahead of her speaking in whispers with her dearest love.

Jane, her very best friend and very best sister, had been dating him for years now. Nine years with the same person (off and on, but she'd get to that part later). The him in this equation was a good man by the name of Charles Bingley, whose only fault was being best friends with an utterly self-obsessed, prejudiced, proud, horrid man with the personality of a depressed sloth who'd made it his mission to make everyone about him miserable.

Oh, and he was Lizzy's boyfriend.

They were simply in the middle of one of their legendary fights.

"Lizzy," Jane called over her shoulder, arm-in-arm with Charlie, giggling and whispering about something as her fingers gently toyed with his auburn hair. "What do you think of this one?" She turned, her conversative dress spinning about her like a princess (which summed up Jane better than anything else. Some people were beauties, or models, or bitches. Jane was a Disney Princess.) "I like it," she mused, pulling away from Charlie to sit in a chair and take in the ambience, from the looks of it. Charlie sat down, tugging her into his lap and they both enjoyed a pleased laugh. Lizzy wasn't really in the mood to see this, because their happiness always made her feel guilty. Like she was just a bitch for arguing so constantly with Darcy.

"It's acceptable," he spoke up, the man of the hour. Elizabeth shot a glare his way.

"Jane, if you like it, then I'm sure everyone will love it," she promised, wandering the floor and checking out the space.

Back to the thing about the off-and-on. Elizabeth could explain it all very well and she knew it made sense to her. Mary had a habit of dismissing it as silly, but she dismissed mostly everything that way. Jane and Charlie had met when they were young. Charlie lived up the road and Jane had been sixteen when the two of them had met and started to date. Lizzy had gone and met Darcy a year later, and when she was seventeen and Jane was nineteen, she started to date the man, having fallen utterly in love. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't prone to periods where she realized how very much of a jackass he could be. So they broke up often. And when they did, Lizzy would make a comment to Jane about how she needed to stop seeing Charlie and Darcy would tell Charlie the same thing. Hence, for nine years, Jane and Charlie were off and on to the whims of Lizzy and Darcy's relationship.

Lately, though, all had been well. Jane and Charlie had both gotten jobs teaching at a primary school in town and Lizzy was busy with her English degree while Darcy worked away in law school.

And then, The Fight had happened, over one of Elizabeth's choices to go spend time with her family now that Jane and Charlie were engaged (yes, that's right, to be married. Lizzy was conversely just engaged to be committed to a mental institution at this rate). That had been last night, when Darcy had informed her that she was either to choose spending the night with her father or with him. She'd chosen Mr. Bennet, who was a great deal less moody than Darcy was on any give day. William Darcy, Lizzy thought, guaranteed to rain on your parade. So they were officially off. Normally, this meant Jane and Charlie were to follow suit, and Elizabeth was just waiting on the opportunity to rant to her sister about how horrid Darcy was and how could Jane possibly be engaged to his best friend?

Jane's gleeful laughter distracted Lizzy and she peered over to find Charlie whispering something or other and Elizabeth felt a tinge of guilt. If she didn't know Darcy was going to persuade Charlie to put the engagement on suspension, she wouldn't say a thing to Jane, but she knew her boyfriend of six years far too well for her own good. 

"We'll book it," Charlie announced happily, kissing Jane's cheek as he extended a hand to her. "Perfect dancing space, a place for a band, suitably affordable."

"Affordable?" Lizzy scoffed. "Charles, you're madly rich."

"It doesn't mean a person can't be sensible!" he protested, and then caught wind of Jane's wide-eyed face, one of innocence and adoration. "Of course, for the very happiest and most special day of my life, I suppose I can spent an infinite amount of money," he conceded. He took up her hand and kissed the palm. "A dance?" he invited hopefully, to which Jane nodded quite eagerly, on her way to dance about the floor with Charlie, leaving Lizzy alone with just her wits and a glowering Darcy beside her.

"They appear to be happy," Darcy spoke, voice clipped.

Lizzy glared up at him. "Just because Charles enjoys to dance while you prefer to stand idly by and merely look on people who do enjoy the act with such disdain doesn't give you the right to be such a snob about it." It was true, actually, that they had only ever danced the once. Lizzy had thought she'd cracked the code, but the very next outing to the clubs yielded an undancing Darcy and she had spent the night miserable at her lack of progress.

She didn't want to be there. She most vehemently did not want to be there and she was so close to vocalizing this emotion when Charlie dipping Jane over right by them and she peered up at Elizabeth and smiled such a girlish smile that for a moment, Lizzy felt herself thaw and she could not help but feel a great deal of love for her sister.

"Jane," Lizzy suggested. "Let's take the pictures home, why don't we? Let Mama have her say?"

It was a cheap argument and one she shouldn't have resorted to, given the pain and suffering their Mama had put Jane through over the varied preparations for the wedding. And yet, it was the only thing she could think to say, therefore condemning her to hell via a terrible lie using her mother's name in vain. Somewhere, Lizzy bet, the hairs on the back of Mrs. Bennet's neck were standing on edge. "Sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Charlie agreed, grinning boyishly.

Lizzy merely smiled tersely and took Jane by the arm, leading her away. "Janie," she spoke, under her breath and hushed. "We have to talk," she informed her, leading her away from the banquet hall with the pace of someone who had a great deal to say and little time to say it in.

From behind her, she could hear Darcy's voice, very faintly. "Charles. A moment?"

Lizzy only increased the pace, serving to get Jane out of there immediately to inform her that there would be a slight change in plans.

tbc


	2. Good Intentions and the Road they Pave

_Step one of an incredibly difficult process. Convincing your sister that the man she is desperately in love with and wants to marry is somehow not right for her, based on his choice of friends._

Lizzy Bennet was having a mild crisis of conscience. For one, her sister was her **sister**. She loved Jane most of all her sisters and wanted nothing more than to see her happy, but there was a part of her that genuinely and honestly believed that marrying Charlie Bingley was a problem if he was still so insistent on depending on Darcy for all his advice. William was a troublemaker, honestly. The problem was that Charlie still seemed to trust him _so much_ and Lizzy couldn't bear to see Jane hurt if suddenly, William got it on a whim to give Charlie some of his 'world-class advice'.

She'd taken Jane out to their favourite little bar, a couple of miles outside of London, called 'The Meryton Maiden'. She went there because she knew William refused to ever set foot in it. Too 'country' for his liking, was his excuse.

She checked her mobile briefly, just to make sure no one (see: Mama) was trying to track them down. "C'mon, Janie," Lizzy pleaded, swirling her red wine. "Let me buy you a drink. Pink margarita!" she said enticingly. "With an umbrella, even," she tried to sway her sister, who had steadfastly ordered a glass of water.

"Oh! Lizzy, I couldn't," Jane swore, eyes wide and her demeanor serious. "The way I feel right now, a few drops of alcohol would knock me out cold. This stress will be the death of me, that I'm sure of."

Lizzy sighed and murmured a 'suit yourself' into her glass of Pinot Noir. And of course, it was time to get down to business.

"Janie," Lizzy exhaled warmly, taking her sister's hand in hers. "Have you been thinking about the wedding?"

Jane looked up from her water. "What? Honestly, Lizzy!" Jane laughed, the sound bright and almost dubious. "Of course I have. It's only weeks away at this point. I'm not thinking about Mary's recitals, if that's what you mean. Although, I do need to attend…"

"Jane," Lizzy interrupted sharply. "Look. I didn't want to ever bring this up, but I'm worried. I'm worried for you." And she honestly was.

_How to convince your sister that you're not trying to utterly ruin her life. How do you do that?_

"Lizzy?" Jane asked, a look of concern flickering over her face. "Lizzy, what's the matter? What's going on?"

Lizzy Bennet exhaled and met her sister's eyes. "I think maybe you should reconsider."

And while Jane went speechless, Lizzy formulated a proper explanation. 

* * *

"Brandy, Charles?" William asked, raising the bottle of amber liquid. The two had retreated to Charles' house in the country (just three miles from the Bennet household, not that William was thinking about Elizabeth, not in the least). He'd already gone through the long list of why this wasn't the proper time to marry Jane and why it might not even be a good idea to marry her ever. 

True love was one thing. A golddigging family was another all together.

"So," Charles repeated, sounded numb. "Her mother honestly said that about me? About taking out an insurance policy if…if I…" he trailed off, words faint.

It was William's deepest regret that he was, in all actuality, simply repeating words he had heard from Mrs. Bennet herself. Not to mention Mr. Bennet's remarks about what Charles' fortune meant for him if he had reduced himself to teaching at the same school where Jane did (an insult on both sides, William felt).

William sat, extending a snifter of brandy to Charles, even if he hadn't asked for it. He could read his best friend's mind at times and though lately, it ran along the lines of 'Jane Bennet, Jane Bennet, work, shoes, clothes, Jane Bennet, Jane Bennet, Jane Bingley-Bennet', he could also tell when he was troubled.

"I'm sorry," William apologized, sitting in one of the leather chairs, closing the book he had been perusing.

Charles peered up, drinking back half the glass of fine brandy in one gulp. "You're just telling me the truth, though, aren't you? I mean, this isn't another solidarity thing where you're mad at Lizzy, therefore, I have to be mad at Jane? Is it, Will?" He was being firm, like William was one of his students.

"I'm repeating what I heard the last time we were there for dinner and you and Jane went up to her room to discuss china," he said flatly, wishing it was a euphemism.

Though, by the way Charles coloured, it just may have been.

Will was a law school student, which meant that he had to be very much thoughtful and critical of his environment. He was studious and had a critical eye for the world and though Elizabeth often tempered it, at other times, she only made it worse. Her family, for example, had a tendency of bringing Darcy back to his dour and critical self. Though he'd known them for nearly ten years now, he could not help but be surprised at every crass remark, every impetuous act of the younger girls, every single thing they did that seemed to have no place in any society.

Charles exhaled, slumping down in his chair. "Did Jane say anything? Anything at all, did _she_ say anything?"

William, at least, was glad to say that his esteem for Jane had not fallen, not since he had discovered her to love Charles as much as he loved her. "No," he admitted. "Your Jane is blameless in this. I have to excuse her from her family's faults."

"You 'have to'," Charles echoed dubiously, sounding as if he didn't know how that could be a bad thing. "An insurance policy!" he repeated, incredulously. "I mean, that is just…it's insulting! How can they be so insulting towards me?" And down went the other half of the brandy in one fell swoop.

"You've known them for how long," William reminded him.

He sighed, peering at his mobile on the desk. "I guess I should call Jane."

"If that's what you feel best." 

* * *

Lizzy pushed a fresh glass of water Jane's way. Her sister had been speechless for a great deal of time, just staring at the table. Lizzy had explained in detail the perils of marrying so young and in this modern day and age, how many things could go wrong. She did craftily avoid talking about how she was worried about William and what he might say when he was in one of his moods. 

Briefly, she wondered why Will had never proposed to her.

But she shook that thought, painfully reminded of that one drunken night in Switzerland that she barely remembered, though she did recall something of a 'will' and then 'marry' and then possibly a 'me'.

"Jane?" Lizzy asked carefully. "Jane, please say something," she pleaded. "I can't do with all this waiting."

Jane looked up, still shell-shocked. "You honestly think he would do that to me?" she asked, in a quiet voice.

"Jane," Lizzy exhaled. "I'm only working with past precedent. William's swayed him over how many countless times already? What if he sees fit to do it while you're married. It's _not_ healthy. Janie, you deserve to be happy, and if a marriage punctuated by separation is what William can convince Charlie of, then I don't know if you'll be happy. No matter how much you love him."

"I do," Jane swore, very fervently. "I do love him, I love him very, very much."

Lizzy sighed, taking her sister's hand in hers. "Jane," she pleaded softly.

"I know," she said, sounding miserable. "Oh! Lizzy, I know. It makes me so sick just to think about, but I know."

"Will you at least think about it?"

"Yes." 

* * *

That night, Lizzy couldn't sleep. Just a bed away, Jane's bed was empty and Lizzy could see that the light of the bathroom was on. Jane was likely in there. It was where she always went in the middle of a personal crisis to either cry in private, to pace over the ceramic floor, or to do a few hours of her beauty routine, just to keep her mind off everything else (sometimes Lizzy thought she even practiced that sweetness of hers in the mirror).

Lizzy, however, was wracked with something. Guilt, possibly.

She closed her eyes, sighing, and trying to sleep, but her mind drifted backwards into the past, into unbidden memories.

_It had been a lodge in the Swiss Alps, high above sea level, and they were both tipsy on port and white wine. He'd convinced Lizzy that carrying him on his back was the most suitable way to travel and they had gone up the paved roads to the little inn they were staying at, laughing and enjoying themselves the whole way._

_"I!" Lizzy announced with a giggle, kissing his temple, "have never **seen** you so relaxed!" she marveled. "WILLIAM DARCY!" she shouted loudly, causing Will to attempt to shush her with a finger on her lips. She just kissed it and gave it a playful nip. "William! Fitzy! Darcy! Can relax!" she shouted, so that everyone on the rooftops could hear her. _

"_Lizzy," Will scolded, setting her on the ground, long enough to tickle her and send her running, having some difficulty in her high heeled boots, giving him no trouble in catching up to her and picking her up, honeymoon-carry style. _

_They'd only be dating for a few years and he had suggested this getaway, to get away from her family and to get away from his responsibilities. It was their summer away from university and it had been easy to agree._

_He smiled down at her and Lizzy thought that if she could never see anything again, not ever, then she would die happy having seen William Darcy smile at her like that._

_He kissed her softly, under the dim light of the inn._

"_I love you," he said, very seriously._

_Lizzy felt hazy, like she was dreaming, like she could just fade away._

"_Marry me…"_

Lizzy woke with a start when she heard a door slam and she sat up slowly in bed to see Jane leaving the bathroom, her eyes rimmed with red and her whole face pale. She set her mobile down on the wardrobe and curled into bed without a word.

The guilt Lizzy had been feeling before just went up. Triple fold. 

* * *

Charles woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of his mobile vibrating on his nightstand. He'd never gotten around to calling Jane. He couldn't do it, no matter what Will said. 

She wasn't just his girlfriend anymore. She was his fiancée, his soon to be wife.

He picked it up, checking his voicemail as he studied a picture of him and Jane in Australia, smiling eagerly for the camera as he kissed her cheek. "Charles," it was Jane's sweet voice, with soft and upset dulcet tones that nearly broke his heart to hear. "Charles," she repeated, breath hitching. "We need to talk, Charles. It's urgent."

tbc


	3. Lies, Damned Lies, and Pineapple

_Thank you to everyone for being so patient! I have the full outline of this written, and I do intend to finish it. The delay is merely because I usually juggle about 4-5 stories at once and I write them in the order of the interest expressed, so this one got pushed to the backburner because some of my other fandoms wanted the stories a little more urgently than this, which is only to say that I will finish this no matter what!_

_And thank you to Frances Mejias for the lone review. Yes, Jane and Bingley are very early 20's in this. Both 22!_

* * *

In the morning after Elizabeth had spoken with Jane, she had gone downstairs, only to be bombarded by text messages from Lydia and Kitty, both asking about the wedding and the dresses and if there would be cute men there to dance with. Reading those almost made Elizabeth want to cancel the entire affair by her hand, just to avoid that mess. 

It was Jane's job to do, though, and not hers, and Elizabeth knew that. Her gaze flickered upstairs to the second story and she knew that her sister was likely still sleeping (she'd been up late, in the bathroom crying, from the sounds of it).

Breakfast was a hearty round of Cheerios that she barely wanted to eat, so disgusted with this whole situation. If only Darcy had learned to keep his mouth shut, then they wouldn't be having this problem! Elizabeth was of the sound mind that her 'darling' (note the sarcasm, amplify it by about a dozen times, and maybe then, the level Elizabeth had attained might be fathomable) boyfriend was honestly too much of a prat for his own good and that he really had to shape up.

She took a moment, while sipping her tea, to call her mother and inform her that things were a bit rocky and when Mama asked "Between you and Will again, dearest? I'm not so very surprised!" it took all of Elizabeth's patience to ask for her father.

"Lizzy," her father's serious tone greeted her.

"Papa," Elizabeth greeted, in between bites of cereal. "Has Jane called home?" She twirled her spoon, watching the way it caught the reflection of the lights as she kept a watchful eye on the stairs, wondering if she'd be the recipient of Jane's first ill mood in forever that morning.

"Not since we last spoke about napkins." The sarcasm was impossible to miss and Elizabeth grinned at that.

"Oh, yes," she said seriously. "The napkins were of utmost importance." It was easy, now, to joke about this like nothing had gone wrong, and she knew she had no place to tell Jane's news for her.

She and her father said little else to each other as they continued to let the phone conversation go on in silence. Elizabeth cradled the phone between her shoulder and chin as she chomped on her breakfast and debated what to say next, beyond 'just wanted to ring'. She liked these silences with her father because they were comfortable and sometimes was just what she needed. Sometimes, she filled them with ranting and raving, but today, she merely chewed thoughtfully.

"Your sister is still very much alive, is she?" her father prompted, after four or five minutes had passed.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Yes, Papa. Jane is alive and well."

The 'well' part may have been an overexaggeration, but Elizabeth wasn't going to quibble over the details so early in the morning, especially when she had to run for groceries sooner rather than later.

They spoke about minor things for some time after, about her Mother's health and Lydia's current obsession and Mary's latest instrument (the clarinet, apparently, was a dreadful instrument to be awoken to). She finished the conversation with a swift, 'I'll come home to see you soon' before hanging up, hearing the first creaking sounds of someone arising.

Jane was awake.

Jane, in all her life, had never been prone to an ill mood. No PMS, no bad days, there was never a black cloud in the sky of Jane's life. Elizabeth wondered if this would be enough to do it.

She watched her sister carefully as she descended the stairs and instantly opened the fridge, smiling warmly at Elizabeth. "Good morning, Lizzy," she greeted softly, taking a bottle of water and taking the newspaper, studying it carefully. She slid onto the stool, tugging her long robe around her, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears.

"Jane?" Elizabeth said, half-warily, half with little tolerance for any of this acting.

Jane peered up, opening the current affairs. "Don't forget strawberries today, please," she requested, sounding as if not a thing was wrong in the least.

This was ridiculous, Elizabeth decided.

She leaned forward and swiped the bottle of water from Jane, yanking the paper away and trying to meet her sister's gaze. "You are Jane. You are my sister who spent the night in the bathroom, who came out looking like she'd just cried a bucket?"

"I don't believe in bad moods stretching past one day," was Jane's defiant response as she very gracefully stole both her water and the paper back. "And some pineapple, please. I'd like to make a fruit salad for when Charlotte comes over."

And there it was. There was the definition of Jane Bennet and Elizabeth wondered, not for the first time, if this was all Will saw of her sister and if this was why he held her in such low esteem. He had to know how much Lizzy and Charlie both adored her. Sometimes, though, Jane made it so difficult to believe there were deeper waters that ran beneath the surface.

"Strawberries and pineapples," Elizabeth reiterated. "Yes, ma'am."

Jane's answering expression told Elizabeth that the 'ma'am' was probably uncalled for, but she was cut off by the sound of Jane's mobile ringing (classical music, obviously, for Jane, nothing less than a concerto by Bach).

She grasped it and wandered into the front hall, whispering so that Elizabeth couldn't hear what was going on.

This, incidentally, made her very, very suspicious, her curious nature acting up.

Jane returned thirty seconds later and Elizabeth sprinted for the stools, to pretend like she wasn't _completely _eavesdropping on a private conversation. She offered a smile, pointing at the shopping list. "Strawberries and…"

"It was just a telemarketer," she cut Elizabeth off and smiled gently.

"Oh," Elizabeth answered, feeling rather foolish. Jane had this thing, where she was too embarrassed to be even a little mean to someone in front of other people, even if it was just telling them 'no thanks, we don't want your windows'. She plucked the list off of the fridge and leaned in to kiss Jane on the forehead, clasping her cheek and smiling warmly. "I'll be home soon. We'll gorge on ice crème and watch chick flicks," she promised as she grabbed her keys and her purse.

"You promise?" Jane asked, letting out the first sound of distress; the tiniest of weak laughs.

"With all my heart and Lydia's shoe collection," Elizabeth swore happily, leaving the small home for the grocery store and remembering _strawberries and pineapples, strawberries and pineapples, and did Jane really call him? Should I call Darcy? No. Strawberries and pine-bloody-apples._

It was going to be a very long day, at this rate.

* * *

Jane paced nervously in the front hall, her long fingers touching the white lace curtains every few moments and her heart felt as though it might jump out of her chest. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know what on Earth she was doing. She'd lied to Lizzy. Of all people, Lizzy. Her best friend and her best sister and there she was, lying away. She'd surely meet some kind of consequence for this. 

It was fifteen minutes and seven seconds after Lizzy left that he pulled up in his BMW and Jane jumped mildly, wrapping her robe tighter around herself as she anxiously spun her engagement ring on her finger.

She had _lied_ to her sister.

She sat on the bottom of the stairs, just staring at the front door as she chewed on her manicured nails, listening to the persistent knocks. She had called him over, that was true, but now that he was here and knocking insistently on her door, she wasn't sure what to do. She had to open it, of course, but that meant facing the facts.

"Jane. Jane, please."

She rose to her feet and her fingers trembled as she hovered by the bolt, staring at it as though it would give the answer to this whole mess. She opened the door swiftly and before she knew it, he was tackling her with an embrace and with desperate kisses, cupping her face and picking her up in his arms, carrying her up the stairs. "Charlie," Jane pleaded. "Charles!"

He didn't seem to hear a single word of it, carrying her into her bedroom and laying her down gently on the bed, kissing her sweetly as he stroked her hair. "I can't possibly do this again," he confessed. "Jane, you can't break up with me. Not now."

"Charles," she begged, scurrying to sit up.

He simply took that as an invitation to pull her into his arms and she went happily and willingly, knowing that they had several hours before Lizzy returned (_liar. Liar) _and Jane kissed him softly upon the neck, easing back until her back was firmly against the padded headboard.

Jane swallowed and summoned up her courage. "I meant what I said on the phone," she said gently, taking his hands into hers. "We do have to talk."

Charles nodded, looking a little too much like a poor and confused little puppy, and Jane bit her lip anxiously, kissing his cheek and murmuring a soft, 'in a moment' as she pushed out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her as she took long, deep, panicky breaths in the solace of the fluorescent lights on the white tiles and she crouched over by the toilet, resting her forehead on the cool tiles of the wall.

The pounding on the door disturbed her and she looked at the door, realizing it wasn't locked and Charlie was just respecting her privacy.

"Come in," she finally spoke, wishing she could simply blurt this out.

He opened the door hesitantly and slid down to the floor, his hand resting gently on her ankle as he leaned in to kiss her hair. "Jane," he said, exhaling. "If you have something to tell me, I think you should just say it. We're both adults and we can handle this and…"

"I'm pregnant."

"…I don't think that there's a single thing you and I can't overcome!" Charles finished with aplomb, smiling optimistically. Jane simply stared at him and waited for a reaction, but none came, and that was when she began to worry.

After a few moments, he began to falter, like cracks of water peeking through the damn.

"Charles?" Jane asked softly, eyes wide and hopeful, her voice nervous and soft.

He just stared at her, the hand on her ankle tightening mildly. "Jane?" he responded in kind.

"Did you hear me?"

"I don't think so, no," he spoke, though by the look on his face, he'd heard her very, very clearly. Jane was more than mildly nervous and her smile was shaky and before she could say anything more, he leaned in and kissed her fiercely, causing her to bubble over with anxious laughter. "Say it?"

"I think that we can't cancel this wedding, Charlie," she confessed, between eager and passionate kisses. "Charlie, I'm…"

"You're having a little beady-eyed thing that will have my hair and your eyes…" he rambled, kissing her again and again, picking her up in his arms and bringing her back to bed. "And we're getting married."

"What do we tell Elizabeth? Will?" Jane asked apprehensively.

There was a long moment of silence between them.

"Nothing," Charles said decisively. "Not yet. Let their fight blow over."

Jane nodded, knowing that they always did, and right now, she had happier matters to tide her over; for instance, the inexorably happy way Charles announced 'pregnant!' before going on a downwards descent of giddy kisses on Jane's body, lavishing his affections upon her.

* * *

"Strawberries," Elizabeth murmurs as she swung the basket over her arm and fought through the crowd of people in the produce section, feeling her mobile buzzing in her back pocket and trying to ignore it for the quest for pineapples. She did a precarious balancing act (and only knocked over three tangerines in the process) as she pulled out her phone to find a missed call from…well, surprise, surprise. 

_Decided it's time to fight, Will?_ she thought wryly.

Normally, she'd call him back and they'd have a legendary argument. She'd even grabbed her phone to juggle it and the basket and begin what was meant to pass when someone rammed right into her side, causing Lizzy to do a double take and let out a vehement sound of protest.

The phone call forgotten, she glared at the jackass who'd…okay, the attractive jackass, but the jackass nonetheless that had run right into her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped. "I'm walking down an aisle, and I think I'm fairly visible."

The man didn't even seem phased. "A beautiful woman like you? I'd be remiss to not notice." He took Elizabeth's hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles in apology, all the while Elizabeth watched him suspiciously. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm a complete…"

"…jackass," Elizabeth finished, along with him.

"Let me buy you a coffee? Make it up to you?"

"I have to buy a pineapple for my sister," Elizabeth informed him, as though it was a very important task.

"Of course," he agreed. "First, pineapple, and _then _I take you for coffee." He offered a smile that showed off really very nice dimples, and Elizabeth thought that he really didn't belong in a supermarket so much as in a photoshoot, somewhere off the coast of Spain, maybe. "I'm George," he introduced himself. "George Wickham." Elizabeth couldn't help but smile, like his was infectious. "Now. Let's see about that pineapple of yours."

tbc


	4. The Illness That Wasn't

Gah! Sorry for the delay. Life popped up and I had half of this ready to go a week ago, but not the other half and the story has been extended a chapter because this got to be a chapter's length (which I'm going with roughly 2000 words per chapter). That takes me from a projected 11 to 12, with possibly more as we go along.

**Frances: **Naive isn't always so stupid:) And don't worry. Wickham will have his fair competition and not just from Will.

**Darcydreamer: **Lizzy is still a smart woman and she'll be sure to keep her wits about her. As for Charles and Jane, they really are kind, puppy-sorts and revenge is definitely not on the table. And maybe, just maybe, in this chapter, there'll be some side-switching!

**kep: **Thank you for the compliment! I definitely like to inject humour where I can. 

* * *

Lizzy had remained with George Wickham for coffee for a great deal of time, laughing over the state of things as things happened to be in the matters of school, the city at large, and it seemed that they had a common acquaintance in Will. Vaguely, Lizzy recalled Will bringing up George in conversation, but it happened so rarely that when George brought up the fact that he and Will were childhood friends, she had reacted with wide-eyed awe. 

She was laughing about a story where Will had apparently been eating worms on a dare when her phone rang and she picked it up, only then realizing that hours had passed when she glanced at the time on her watch. "Lizzy here," she answered, professional as ever.

"Lizzy! Where are you!" It was Jane, sounding forever motherly and concerned. "You were supposed to be home for dinner an hour ago and I have to go out."

That got Lizzy to stop laughing and finally look away from George's chiselled jaw, turning away from her tea and the table and its pleasant conversation. "Go," Elizabeth echoed. "Go where? I have the car."

"I'll ride my bike over," was Jane's kind response. "I left some of my things over at Charlie's and now that I'm feeling better, I want to go pick them up."

Elizabeth's gaze turned towards the glass windows of the coffeeshop as she watched the clouds with trepidation. "Jane, are you sure? It doesn't look so good outside."

"Mama does not think it shall rain," Jane replied and Elizabeth was only glad that her big sister couldn't see her rolling her eyes over the phone. She did love their Mama, but occasionally, she would say absolutely anything in order to put Jane in a position to do exactly her bidding. Elizabeth tried not to let it bother her that she was much the same way, in what she wanted Jane to do.

This all brought her thoughts back to Will and she let out a barely-audible sigh. Maybe she really should call him up.

"Lizzy, you've zoned out on me," Jane interrupted her reverie. "Come back to Earth," she beckoned. "I just want a pillow and some clothes, I ought to be back before midnight, even if I take the bike. Where are you, anyway!"

"I'm having coffee," Elizabeth whispered.

Jane seemed to pick up on the secretive tone. "Is he gorgeous?" was her whispered reply. "Or are you in trouble again?"

"I am not in trouble," Elizabeth reacted defensively. "Why would I be in trouble?"

"You do lash out at some professors sometimes, Lizzy," she advised in that way she had of never actually placing blame on anyone. It was just a random comment from Jane. Elizabeth sighed and switched the phone to her other ear. "I'll be home soon, I just wanted to tell you where I was off to so you don't worry when you get home." It sounded so sweet and Elizabeth bit back her concerned question about whether Jane would be fine going back to see Charles so soon. Her sister, however, was a grown-up.

"Jane, listen," Elizabeth began. "About this silly thing with you and Charlie and me insisting…"

She was about to continue when George reached over and gently tapped her on the shoulder and rose to his feet. She drew the phone away from her. "Are you leaving?" she asked, shocked and worried.

"I've got to run," he confirmed sadly.

"Jane, can I call you back?"

"Of course," Jane spoke, and was off the phone before Elizabeth could even hang up and Elizabeth swiftly pocketed her mobile. George seemed to not even mind that she'd blown him off for a phone call and he even sat back down.

"So, can I get your number, or is that a secret?" George asked, flashing Elizabeth the most charming grin she had seen in a very, very long time. It didn't take much more convincing and Elizabeth grasped a napkin, jotting down her mobile number on the clean portion, handing it over as she sat back in her chair, cradling her tea and offering him a flirtatious smile. "I'll call you," he promised.

"You'd better," she warned. "I'm good at tracking people down."

* * *

By the time Elizabeth returned home with her groceries in tow, it was pouring rain outside and thundering violently and all she could do was watch the droplets of rain falling down the windowpane and worry over her sister. She'd been trying to call the Bingley home, but she kept getting a busy signal over and over and with the storm, the lines must have been down. 

It was approaching midnight and there was no way that Jane was coming home tonight. Elizabeth wished she could reassure herself that everything was fine, but she worried for her sister and that didn't stop, even when the phone rang and the caller display was 'W. Darcy. Lunatic'.

Maybe, just maybe, she had changed the caller-display after their last fight.

"What?"

"Your sister is here."

Elizabeth managed not to roll her eyes too desperately. "Why, William, you couldn't even inflect cheer into that. And here I thought you liked Jane."

"Well enough. She got caught in the rain and she's soaked. She's fairly miserable, so she's staying the night." It was clear from his tone that he very much didn't approve of this and nearly instantly, everything hit Elizabeth swiftly. Her sister loved Charles and she was _most_ definitely good enough for him. And if Will disapproved, than that definitely meant that she **should** marry the man.

It was almost amusing how quickly Lizzy saw things in the light.

"I'll be over immediately," Elizabeth assured.

"At this hour?"

"She's my sister!" she insisted, already grabbing her purse. "Tell Janie I'm coming and tell her I'm sorry," she relayed the message through a reliable source, even if she was currently at odds with him.

"Elizabeth, I…" William remarked, before she could hang up the phone and there was just _something_ in his voice that made her pause, something that made her hesitate, because there were times that her painfully and socially awkward ex-boyfriend had honesty shine right through and it made all the other times worth it.

"Will, I'm coming for Jane. You can tell me then," she assured, softening mildly (though if anyone asked, Lizzy Bennet did not soften for any man).

She hung up and stared out the window for a very long moment, to try and compose herself. Her relationship with Will had always been tenuous at best. The passion of the good times unfortunately carried over to the bad and they were so alike that it scared Lizzy sometimes, but unfortunately, they were each so proud and stubborn that fights like this seemed to have no ending and made Lizzy wonder what she ever saw in him to begin with. Usually, they made up and were so blinded and in love that the fights were forgotten, but Lizzy was having difficulty this time.

Maybe because she'd met a man who could admit he wasn't perfect. Maybe because George Wickham had funnelled into her thoughts and refused to leave.

But right then and there, Elizabeth had to go to Jane's side and be a good sister and grovel for her forgiveness.

Elizabeth arrived, soaked in the rain, having not even bothered to grab an umbrella and when the door was opened by Charlie's sister, Elizabeth barely managed a smile. "You're soaked," Caroline observed with disgust, handing her a towel as she walked away.

"Thank you!" Elizabeth called after her, giving her a discreet finger before heading immediately upstairs, knowing the townhouse by heart by now. She bumped into Charles forcibly, who was carrying a handful of towels and a nightgown down the hall. "Oh! Perfect," Lizzy said, happy to find the one person who lived in the home that she actually could talk to. "Where's Jane? Is she okay?"

"She's in the washroom," Charlie admitted, quietly. "She's sick, but I'm taking care of her!" he insisted desperately. "I am!"

Elizabeth just squeezed Charles' shoulder as she passed him, heading towards the bathroom to talk to Jane first about being a completely idiot about insisting that because Will thought something, she had to think the same. It was a brand new bright day, in which the Bennet sisters could unite, Lizzy thought.

The door to the washroom was closed and Elizabeth rapped on the white panelling with her knuckles lightly, hearing the sound of retching from within and the very tiniest of soft, miserable sighs.

"Janie," Elizabeth said gently. "It's me."

"Oh," Jane groaned from within and the door seemed to drift open. Elizabeth stepped inside to find her sister lying on the ground, her feet close to the door. After a second of pitying her poor sister, Elizabeth closed the door and lay down on the floor beside Jane, brushing back a lock of hair from her sweaty forehead. "Lizzy," Jane remarked, sounding numb. "I think I may have been too rash in coming in the rain."

"My sister," Elizabeth said lovingly, with a wry smile. "Nothing is too difficult for you to face." Her cheek touched the cool linoleum and she sat up only to get a cloth and dampen it, setting it against Jane's forehead.

Her sister gave a small sigh of relief at the coolness. "Lizzy, there's something I need to tell you."

"No," Elizabeth said immediately, and stubbornly at that. "Not before I apologize."

"For what!" Jane sounded so surprised, like she honestly thought that Lizzy could never do anything wrong. _Oh, Jane_, Elizabeth thought, _You really are the last of the good people in this family_. "Lizzy, don't be silly. If you mean this squabble and insisting that Charlie isn't right for me, it just made me realize that he is!"

"Exactly!" Elizabeth agreed with firmness. "Jane, I realized the same thing and I am so sorry that I said anything otherwise. You love him and you _should_ marry him."

Something flickered over Jane's face, something that Elizabeth couldn't place and that was odd in itself, because Jane was her best friend and best sister and she could place all her moods. So why not this one?

"Janie, what is it?"

"Charles is such a good man," Jane insisted. "Sensible…funny, and he's so handsome."

"Janie, what's going on?" Elizabeth asked again, firmer this time, because she still had no idea what was going on and she didn't like that. Was this Jane's way of telling her that it was too late and she'd broken up with him? She moved the cloth when Jane sat up with a start, heaving into the toilet bowl with no result. "Jane, don't make rash decisions while you're sick," Elizabeth advised. "We'll wait until you're better and then we'll talk!"

"Elizabeth, Lizzy," Jane murmured, sitting back against the wall. "Charles and I are still together."

"Good," Elizabeth immediately said, eager to show her sister her support. "That's great news!"

"Because," Jane murmured lowly, "I'm pregnant."

That was the biggest news that Elizabeth had ever heard in the history of news being told to her and _Jane_? **Jane**, her responsible big sister who would never do something wrong in her life was pregnant.

"Oh my God," Elizabeth said, staring at her. "Jane, _how_?"

The mischievous look on Jane's face at the question definitely wasn't missed.

"Oh, I get how," Elizabeth said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I didn't know you two were trying. And before the wedding?" she added, in her best stern-mother voice. It wasn't that she disapproved, it was just so much more of a Kitty or a Lydia thing to do.

"With the wedding so close, we went to see some doctors," Jane admitted, shifting the cloth against her neck and giving a pleased sound of relief. "We've both wanted kids for so long and we wanted them soon after the marriage. Better to start young. So I was taken off my birth control to let my hormones regulate and we stopped using protection since the wedding was coming up so quickly and…"

"And it stuck," Elizabeth realized. "And now with all this turbulence before the wedding…"

"Yeah," Jane finished that sentence, smiling wanly and peering up when the door was opened and Charles joined their little girl group, crouching down beside Jane to offer her a cup of tea. "Thank you, sweetheart," Jane murmured. "I'd kiss you if I weren't so disgusting."

"You could be the most disgusting in all the continents and I'd still be glad to have you kiss me," Charles announced proudly, kissing her on the lips as he eased back and sat with them. "Not to say that you are," he stumbled. "You're beautiful. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And of course, Lizzy is the second!"

"Flatterer," Elizabeth teased as she closed the door and got comfortable, staring at her sister and her boyfriend. "I can't believe it," she said, honest in that. "I mean. I'm going to be an Auntie."

"And a godmother," Jane insisted, sipping at her tea as Charles rubbed her back. "So, you see, Lizzy. We have to speed up the wedding."

"And I have a best man who doesn't approve of me marrying into your family," Charles said, like this was the world's most daunting task. "We're trying to keep this quiet. We've been thinking about making it small. Your family, me, and Jane."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. "Not Caroline or Louisa?"

"As much as I love my family, they would be the first to tell Will," Charles said in a dry, bemused tone. "He's their knight in shining armour."

Without another word, Elizabeth leaned over and kissed her sister's forehead gently. "Janie, I am so sorry I tried to talk you out of this," she said simply, stroking her messy hair back. "We're going to make this right. I'm going to help you fix things."

It would have helped, of course, if Elizabeth had known the turn towards the chaotic that her own life was about to take, but sitting there in that bathroom, she meant those words through and through.

tbc


	5. The Art of Dance Take 2

Sorry about this. Thank you to those who DID review. I had to upload this chapter because I made a slight error, which sammie was great enough to point out. So, this is the SAME as the chapter before, but as a slight reward, I've added a new scene to the bottom for putting up with me. 

* * *

Elizabeth's first thought on walking into The Longbourn Lush was that this was not a place for Jane. Even though people smoked outside, the pounding noise that shook the floors and the smell of alcohol in the air made the entire bar reek of Bad Idea, but it was the one place they had agreed on and even Will had come out with them – the them being Charlie, Jane, and herself, out for a night on the town. 

What Elizabeth hadn't mentioned to anyone was that she'd texted George with the address and was currently searching every last nook and cranny to see if he'd show up.

"Jane!" Elizabeth shouted above the noise as she kept leading them towards the corner. "Are you entirely sure about this?"

Jane's reaction was one of beatific unmindingness. Jane wouldn't mind if the sky came crashing down on her. She'd just apologize for getting in its way and keep moving on. So Jane just nodded, sitting herself down with Charlie's help. Elizabeth was quickly getting the idea that no matter where Jane went, she was going to have a very attractive, red-haired barnacle at her side.

Will, however, seemed to be willing to prevent that.

"Charles," he summoned. "Come get a drink with me."

Elizabeth slid into the booth with Jane, taking her sister's hand into her lap. "Get Jane a glass of water," she demanded, as though Will might forget about it. And if he did, she'd really let him have it.

Jane squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "Lizzy…" she spoke gently.

"We wouldn't dream of forgetting!" Charlie stepped in to cut off whatever Will was going to say in reply. Something rude, probably, Lizzy guessed. And then they were off to fight the mass of chaos over at the bar. _Good riddance_, she thought to Will's backside (which, admittedly, had definitely not declined in its' attractiveness, during their break-up. It was still one of the finest rears in all Britain).

They made their way to the bar and Jane occupied herself taking off her denim coat, smiling politely at all the waiters. Lizzy herself, however, was staring at the door.

"I'm sure he'll come," Jane assured.

It really didn't have the desired effect on Elizabeth, because she nearly jumped out of her skin, guilty immediately for being caught and she had to wonder if Will had seen her. "What! Who! No!"

"Lizzy," Jane chastised with a laugh. "Tell me about him."

This was all the invitation that Lizzy had ever needed when it came to her sister and gossiping about men. It had been this way for years, stretching all the way back to when Jane was twelve and Lizzy was ten and Lizzy had met a boy in her class who used to tug her hair, but whom Lizzy adored dearly. She grinned widely, one eye always watching the door in case George walked in.

Jane laughed at the eagerness. "I haven't seen you like this since you first met Will!" she observed.

Lizzy just waved that off. "Before I realized what a wank he can be?" she said dryly. "George is gorgeous, Janie. He's absolutely this pretty boy…"

"Not your type, then," Jane interrupted, a brow arching in surprise.

"And he's charming. He actually knows what to say to a woman upon first meeting instead of just glaring and refusing to dance," she praised, which only brought back ill memories to another club like this, when Jane and Charles and Elizabeth and Will had all met for the first time.

It had been nearly seven years back. Charles had absconded with Jane to the dance floor for a night of really illicit, sappy, gag-in-your-mouth dancing together without an inch of space between them. Of course, Lizzy had been really pleased. She just hadn't been pleased being forced to stand there with Will all night, discussing the stock market.

Of all things, really. The _stock market_. She'd been bored to tears all night, escaping whenever she could to the dance floor.

Tonight, Lizzy decided, she wanted to dance and she wanted George there to dance with. And maybe a part of it was to drive Will terribly mad with jealousy, but another part genuinely wanted to dance with him.

"So how does he rate on the Lizzy Scale?" Jane inquired, her own gaze seemingly drawn to the bar, where she waved at Charlie and Will.

Elizabeth Bennet, let it not go without saying, had a scale for rating men. It was a fairly simple calculation. You took their attractiveness and multiplied the charm, then a subtraction of family detractions came into play, plus points for intelligence and divided by age.

"He's a four point four," Elizabeth praised.

This was saying something, as Will had only ever been a two point something. She'd forgotten as she'd done it ages back. Of course, she'd never met a mythical five point zero, but she assumed they were out there. Jane always used to say she didn't care how Charlie scored, because to her, he was perfect.

"Is he coming here?" was Jane's next thoughtful question.

She had caught Elizabeth in the middle of her search for the door and when another burst of people filtered into the club, she lit up. "He just did," she announced. "Janie, I'll be back soon, okay? Kick Will in the arse if he doesn't bring you water."

"Be careful," was Jane's single admonition as Elizabeth went hurrying out of the booth to meet George by the doors.

She had, actually, dressed up for the occasion, wearing a black halter and a short denim skirt. Normally, she'd throw just anything on and listen to Jane tell her that she 'was so beautiful and why did she hide it'? But slinking up to George, she finally was pleased her hair was done right and her makeup was perfect. She'd been in a relationship so long that some days, she honestly forgot how to be single.

She definitely wouldn't mind re-learning with George.

"Hey stranger," she greeted above the music. "I thought you weren't coming!"

He wrapped an arm around her waist to tug her away from incoming patrons and took her hand before pressing a kiss to it. "Would I really miss this?" he questioned. "I hope you put your dancing shoes on."

"They're getting to bother me," Lizzy teased, taking his hand. "Come on, I'll introduce you later, let's get a dance now."

"As the lady wishes…!"

He let himself be tugged off to the dance floor and Lizzy felt lighter than she had the whole day. See, this was good. This was how she should feel. Happy and flirting and not worrying over some sulking sort-of boyfriend. 

* * *

Charles had dragged him forcibly to the bar and after waiting for at least ten minutes solely for a spot, they had gotten in, ordering a Scotch for Darcy, a cranberry vodka for Charles, and a glass of wine for Elizabeth – her favourite – and of course, the water for Jane could not be forgotten. "Make that lemon water!" Charles shouted to the bartender at the last minute. 

"I don't know why you always drag me to places like this," Will remarked, setting down one bill to cover all the drinks on the bar.

"Because secretly, you enjoy them," Charles said broadly with a grin, waving at Jane.

Will sighed as he took his Scotch and held it the way any good drink should be held; with respect and an expert hand. "Honestly, Charles, she's not going to disappear if you take your eyes off of her."

"You know, I never said a thing when you and Lizzy were nauseating with your passionate…"

"Hold on."

"What? No!" Charles remarked, taking the remaining three drinks and balancing them. "We've had this conversation. I can talk when I want."

"No, Charles, look who's here," Will ordered, eyes on the door and if looks could kill, Will would have arranged his to be a hitman, giving death three times over. _George Wickham_ had just walked in and if there was anyone in the world who needed to leave the Earth's atmosphere and go die in space, George was that person.

Something must have happened, because Charles darted right in his path of vision and Will turned that glare onto him. "No, you can't. Will, I refuse to get kicked out because you get in a brawl with him," he said.

And even if Charles was doing his level-best to get in the way, Will wound up catching sight of something very surprising and horrible over his shoulder. "What is my girlfriend doing with Wickham?" Will demanded, his voice barely anything more than a hateful growl, pushing Charles to the side and taking two long strides towards them before he was forcibly tugged back by another hand. Looking back, he saw Charles had put the drinks down and was giving Will the 'Danger, Danger Will Darcy!' look.

"Do you really want to be the bad guy?" he asked.

"It's Wickham!"

"And Lizzy seems to be enjoying his company," Charles pointed out. "She'll take his side. She'll take anyone's side against you right now."

And that burned Will up most of all. That Wickham, of all the horrid people in the world, would get Elizabeth's charity; that she would take his side, even though she loved Will and had trusted him for so long.

"What does she see in him?" Will muttered, heading for the booth instead of to initiate a losing fight.

"Maybe that he's handsome?" Charles suggested, ever the peacemaker.

Of course, saying that he might lose Lizzy to Wickham because he was _handsome _just set his teeth on edge. He didn't even know what to say, beyond the sheer expression of his desire to storm over there and punch George Wickham out, laying him flat on the floor.

But Will Darcy didn't show that.

No, he just sat there and watched Jane thank the both of them profusely for getting her water, reaching over to rest her hand atop Will's, in a show of thanks. He barely acknowledged her, so focused on the other two.

"Will?" Charles' voice cut through his raging thoughts. "We're going to dance. Don't do anything rash," he instructed. He led Jane out onto the dance floor and he barely heard her murmurs of concern because he was noticing that Wickham had the same idea. He was leading Lizzy out onto the dance floor to enjoy a slow, sensual dance with her.

He was getting closer and closer to instigating that brawl with every second.

_Why Wickham? Of all the men in the world, why did she have to pick the only one whose liver I'd like to have bronzed on my wall? She obviously doesn't really love me if she's doing this._

The songs had changed three or four times while Will sat stewing over his scotch, nursing the alcohol slowly, and in the break between sets, Lizzy brought Wickham back to the table, tempting Will and fate both at the same time.

"William," she greeted, icily. "I'd like you to meet…"

"We've met," Wickham spoke up.

That seemed to be a surprise to Elizabeth, and Will did his best to remain stoic and uncaring. "Surprising to see you here," he noted, finishing off his Scotch.

"It's a free country," Wickham retorted. "I can go where I like."

"As can I," Will said, his tone clipped. He rose from his seat, grabbing his coat. "Elizabeth, always nice to see you. Wickham," he said, not even having words for the man past the terse saying of his name. He made his way to the dance floor to grasp Charles' elbow, disturbing him from a quiet conversation and a slow dance with Jane. "Charles, Jane," he said, with the smallest hint of warmth in his voice. "I'm going."

"Already!" Charles remarked in surprise.

"Will, please," Jane begged. "Stay. The night has only begun."

"I'll see you both at home," he didn't even take the time to argue, and with several sets of eyes on his back, Will began his departure from the club, all eyes on him. On his way out, he brushed past two very familiar young girls, but was hardly in the mindset to care. 

* * *

"What the hell just happened!" was Lizzy's exclamation to George, after staring incredulously at Will and wondering what had crawled up his arse to get him to leave in such a fit. She had her suspicions, but she'd never thought something like that might happen. 

George barely smiled, turning to her again. "We have a complicated past," he admitted. "It's not a particularly bright one, so I don't like to talk about it."

"I'd like to hear," Lizzy encouraged gently, but even as George was opening his mouth to tell her, Jane was at her side in a flurry of panic. "Jane! What is it?"

"Kitty and Lydia," she said, exhaling deeply and pointing to the door where their sisters were all tarted up in the shortest skirts and the most glittering shirts that could be imagined, drinks already in their hands and makeup on their faces enough for five women.

"What are they doing here!" Lizzy remarked in shock. "George, listen, I need to…"

"Go ahead," he agreed quickly.

Jane was right behind her and she took hold of Lizzy's hand as they navigated the crowd and made it to the mouth of the club, where Lizzy stared at her sisters with disappointment and frustration. "What are you two doing here?" she demanded. "Mama grounded the both of you after last time!"

Kitty was giggling all over Lydia, who was sipping her drink with a haughty air. "We wanted to come out," she remarked, giggling herself slightly. "Ooh, Lizzy, you have a new handsome friend!"

"Kitty!" Lizzy said sharply. "Do you know how much trouble you'll be in?"

"I don't care," Kitty said, laughing away.

Lizzy glanced behind her to find both Jane and Charles there for support. "Girls," Charles said. "This is not the best idea. A club like this is no place for two young girls like you. We can go get coffee," he suggested.

Kitty looked like she was about to agree, but Lydia threw her a sharp glare. "No, we'll be staying. _You_ can leave," she said, in an infuriating tone. Honestly, Lizzy didn't even know what to do with them sometimes and she always came back to blaming her Mama for not taking better care in raising them.

"Lizzy," Jane said quietly.

"No, they're right," she agreed. "Jane, Charles, let's go for that cup of coffee." She most certainly didn't want to sit around watching her sisters make fools of themselves. She excused herself momentarily to make her way back to George, who had a drink waiting – vodka, straight, Lizzy's most hated drink.

George glanced over her shoulder. "Problems?"

"We have to leave," she apologized. "I had a wonderful time and I hope I'll see you again?" she said, hating to do this.

"I'll do you one better," he assured. "I promise we'll see each other again."

Lizzy lingered for a long moment, not knowing if he was really telling the truth, because there was a glimmer there of something else. But she believed him, if only for the moment, and gave him a nod to agree with his view of the situation before grabbing a pile of coats and leaving the club, flanked by Jane on one side and Charles on the other.

"Should we tell our parents about…"

"Leave it to me," Lizzy assured, heading out into the cold night. 

* * *

When Will Darcy got home from the bar, he was met with the most unwelcome sight in the world he could think of. Caroline Bingley sitting there on their porch, swinging back and forth and obviously waiting for someone. It was just a testament to how frustrated he was with the whole mess that he just sat down beside her. 

"You look like you've been through hell and back," she observed, fanning herself with a homemade silk fan from Italy.

"I have," he agreed. "Wickham."

"That rat-bastard?" Caroline humphed. "You'd think after the last beating you gave him, he'd leave."

"He's not after me," was Will's disgusted voice.

"Will," Caroline nearly purred, in some deliberate effort to be very much sexy, as she draped both legs over his lap. It still made him uncomfortable, especially given the fact that he'd turned down Caroline several times in the past and had made it clear to her that any time they did go out was only for desperation. He had even started taking Jane out a while back if Elizabeth hadn't been available. Or Mary, even. Just, not Caroline. But tonight, he didn't care. "Let's not forget about Wickham."

He was just tipsy enough, just angry enough, just uncaring enough to give a nod in the affirmative.

"Good." Caroline was grinning her Cheshire Cat grin. "I think I can persuade you to think of something else."

tag

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	6. The Morning After

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the massive delay between parts and thank you all for the reviews! In this chapter, we've got more complications yet! I will hopefully be better about parts now that I'm settled into some jobs and at home, so cross our fingers!**

* * *

It was a long night and Elizabeth just wanted to go bed after explaining to her father all about Lydia's antics at the club and how Kitty just flitted on like a mirror, an unattractive, noticeable mirror. The coffee with Jane and Charles had helped as they discussed things and Charlie gave Jane sips of water every now and again, her legs in his lap. Jane didn't have a solution to the issue and neither did Elizabeth.

Honestly, how did you adjust someone's obnoxious personality after they'd lived with it for so long and worse, their Mother so often _encouraged_ it. It was simply horrid. Horrible and utterly inappropriate and one day, it was going to land them in a pot of hot water.

Jane had retired to bed first with Charles accompanying her, trailing behind her like a lost little puppy, fingers reaching out to clasp at the ties on her shirt as they went up the stairs, Jane laughing demurely every step of the way. They had promised to call Will and explain where they were so he wouldn't just turn up in the middle of the night. Lizzy did watch and loved to watch because honestly…well, it was nice to see two people in love the way they were, without arguments or drama, where every fight was resolved within minutes.

Then again, nothing did beat the passionate make-ups that she and Darcy had.

The very thought of Will brought a pang to Elizabeth's stomach and she released the banister from her grip as she wandered into the den to clean up the cups of coffee and try to think of anything but Will. George was a pleasant distraction, even if there was that untimely dance with Lydia and his preference in drinks – not to mention how _many _he'd had. Had he not stopped at four? Lizzy shook her head to rid the notion from her mind focusing on George; George and not Will.

She took a deep breath and locked every last door in the house, lingering in the den for a long moment. Maybe she was being too hard on Will? After all, it wasn't like she thought of her family as the most prizewinning in the neighbourhood herself. But still, to imply Jane could get wrapped up in all of it was just a mess.

She trudged up the stairs, her buzz worn off from the night and lord, but she was looking forward to crashing on her bed and not even thinking about anything remotely serious for a good twenty-four hours, no…no, more than that. Thirty-six, at the least.

She opened the door and was about to take off her top when she realized that she was hardly alone in her room and she slammed on the lights to find a most unwelcome presence in her bed. In her **bed**!

"COLLINS!" Elizabeth snapped loudly, a howl of panic as she very much put her top back on and threw a foam ball at the figure, the lump under her covers. He was under her covers, that stupid old family friend that her mother seemed to adore so much, but it was only because some ancient version of the family will bequeathed the family home to him and they couldn't change it because of a lien, but why was he in her bed! "Bill, what are you doing in my bed?" she demanded, when he slowly roused.

Jane and Charlie must have heard her shouting because suddenly, they were at her door dressed down in their pajamas, staring over her shoulder as Collins slowly roused in bed, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

"Weren't you in seminary, Bill?" Jane asked politely, a hand on her flat stomach, as though she had something there to hide just yet. Which, if Elizabeth was honest, there was the tiniest of bumps.

Collins looked around the room. "Your mother said I could sleep here," he explained tiredly. "I had to leave seminary. It was no place for me. No one understood me. I'm going to be a deacon, rather." Each word was sleepier than the last as he got completely comfortable in Elizabeth's bed.

Her eyes widened with shock. "I swear…" she muttered, storming forward to forcibly remove him, but Jane and Charles had their hands on her arms, dragging her back.

"Lizzy!"

"Elizabeth, really!" Charles protested worriedly. "If you shed blood, who will do the laundry? I refuse to let Jane do it," he said teasingly.

It did the trick in getting Elizabeth to relax and she took a deep breath, shooting daggers back into the room and if looks could kill, Collins would be dead about five times over. He was supposed to have gone to seminary and be out of their lives so they wouldn't have to have him over for another boring night of 'why God is great' and 'why you are all living in sin.

Elizabeth gestured to the room. "Now where am I supposed to sleep!" she complained loudly.

"Lizzy, you take my bed," Jane insisted. "Charles and I will go to his place," she assured. "We were supposed to go to breakfast anyhow to plan for the wedding and the shoppe is closer to his place than here." Her voice was level-headed and calm as Jane always was. Always the voice of reason and Elizabeth loved her for it. She hugged her tightly. "Don't worry," Jane insisted. "We will find out what is going on from Mama tomorrow, very first thing."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and nodded, helping her sister and Charles gather their things and watching them depart before collapsing into a dejected sit on the front step, letting the cool evening breeze waft past her, chin in her hands. Broken up, dating a mildly worrying man, and Bill Collins in her bed. What had happened to her life?

* * *

In the morning, Jane was pacing back and forth on the phone as Charles stood in the bathroom, happily whistling as he brushed his teeth. "Mama," Jane sighed. "Lizzy is very upset about all of this!" she insisted, pacing back and forth, past the bathroom door, always in Charles' sight. "Well, you didn't tell her. Yes, Mama, it is a little unsettling to come home to a strange man in your bed."

She sighed.

"Mama, maybe he's not a stranger, but it is a little strange. And what about Lizzy's feelings?" Jane had a hand on her forehead. "Yes, Lizzy has feelings that matter. We're not just little dolls to be married off, Mama."

Another deep breath and Jane was on her way to pacing again.

"Well, she's not happy! I gave her my bed…"

Charles watched as Jane's eyes widened. "Oh dear lord, Mama, you expected _what_?"

Jane would have continued her shocked phone conversation had she not seen Caroline Bingley shuffle out of Darcy's room towards the bathroom, pushing Charles aside with an elbow, demanding that he give her her toothbrush. All words left Jane's mouth and she was stuck wondering if the world had gone upside-down when last she had looked. She was just glad the morning sickness had passed hours ago, because all this shock honestly would have encouraged a worsening of it.

Jane babbled a quick, "Mama, I'll call you back, please talk to Lizzy before she tries something violent with Bill Collins." And she hung up the phone swiftly, staring into the bathroom, where Caroline was very carefully brushing her mussed hair. "Caroline," Jane greeted very evenly. "Were you in Will's room?"

That got Charles' attention and he gaped at his sister.

"Charles, shut your jaw," Caroline said with a heavy sigh. "It makes you look like an ape. And yes, Janie, I was." Jane was always quite happy to speak with Caroline as she did love her as a sister, but Will was still Elizabeth's boyfriend, despite all this George Wickham silliness. "Will Darcy," Caroline said dreamily, combing her hair, "is a gentleman. You could learn a thing or two, Charles."

Jane put the phone back in its' cradle, knocking on the door.

"He's not there," Caroline advised. "He left earlier. He said he had 'business'." Charles was staring at her suspiciously and Jane was as well, wondering just how much had actually happened. Caroline could be a notorious liar when it came to solidifying her reputation and with no confirmation and no evidence, Jane chose to believe the best of the matter.

"Charlie," Jane said. "We should get going. We'll be late."

"Late for what?" Caroline asked, desperately curious. As well as being a notorious liar, Jane knew, she was also quite a legendary gossip.

That was why Jane smiled very politely as she took Charles' hand and they grabbed their jackets. "Breakfast. The special closes at eleven," she explained, very even as they left the flat with Jane trying to wrap her mind around everything. She felt like she couldn't even breathe, honestly, to think of Caroline taking what her sister was simply too silly to understand that she had.

"Don't worry," Charles interrupted her thoughts, like he could hear them. His hands were at her shoulder, massaging evenly. "You always wrinkle up your nose when you're thinking worrying thoughts," he explained. "I have an idea."

"An idea?"

"We'll host a dinner. Not only does that mean you and I can see each other in public, but we can have Will and Elizabeth sit next to each other and be forced to talk," he said triumphantly, eyes bright. Jane turned to him, rifling her fingers through his mad red hair and leaned up to kiss up. "I really am quite smart."

"Quite," Jane agreed happily.

* * *

Five minutes at breakfast with Collins was about to drive Elizabeth insane and she leapt for the phone when it rang, wishing it was Jane telling her that she was coming home and was about to rescue her from the madness, but it was her mother. Which was also lucky because Elizabeth had more than several choice words for this situation. And to begin, she hissed, "How could you do this to me!" with several notes in it that only dogs could hear. "You let him have my bed, Mama!"

"It's for your own good," her mother opined and Elizabeth scoffed, staring at the wall and honestly, if she had to listen to yet another conversation about sermons and free will and God's will, she might just let a slap fly. She might just let her instincts get the best of her. At least she knew her father would forgive her for it.

"Mama," Elizabeth got out through gritted teeth. "I don't want him here. He's pushed Jane out of our home. I like our home the way it is and you let a strange man I barely know and," Elizabeth pitched her voice to a hiss of a whisper, "barely like into my _bed_."

"It's only for a week or so," her mother insisted. "Be nice, Lizzy dear. Maybe he'll even surprise you."

The dial tone confronted Elizabeth before she could make another retort and she gave a scream of frustration, so angry that when the phone rang again, she hit 'talk' and growled, "WHAT!" into the mouthpiece.

"Lizzy," Jane said calmly, voice lilting and gentle. "Come meet us for breakfast. There are bridesmaids dresses to pick out and we have cake samples and we even have the double-chocolate you like with the raspberry amaretto coulis."

Elizabeth simply took a deep breath and grabbed her things, hanging up the phone as she headed out the front hall, passing Collins on the way, but not even saying a word to him in parting as she tried so desperately to escape to the bastion of sanity that she knew Jane could provide. She couldn't even stand to think about her family's ills at the moment, let alone the maze of men she had been left to deal with.

That could all wait for another day because Elizabeth Bennet had to go eat cake, damn it.

tbc


	7. I've Been To A Marvellous Party

I am so sorry for the great delay between parts. I just lost all steam and train of thought, but this is finally here! Thank you to everyone who waited so long and who has reviewed. They help me to know that people are enjoying the story as much as I do.

* * *

The plan had been slightly ingenious for a brief span of time. At first, it had been a quiet dinner party between Jane, Charles, Will, and Elizabeth. But then Caroline had found out and invited herself and Mrs. Bennet found out and invited _herself_ and then all hell broke loose from there. Elizabeth wanted someone she'd met there, some bloke named George and Charles had to be polite and invite him, now didn't he?

And then Mrs. Bennet had gone on and on and on about how impolite it would be for them to have a dinner while Bill was in town and not invite him. "Whatever would the Collins say of our manners! Especially from Jane's…" There had been hemming and hawing then, trying to figure out what they were.

As far as everyone else in the world but Caroline, Elizabeth, and Will knew, they were still in one of their 'off' stages. Well, and Jane's obstetrician. But that was awkward and didn't bear repeating in public, Charles thought. Plus, she didn't know they were 'on'. Just that there was a baby in the oven. The uterus. Not the uterus-oven. Because there wasn't one of those in existence. And even Will didn't know about the impending wedding, since he kept making comments about how lucky Bingley was to dodge a bullet in letting the Bennets get at his money.

So now the guest-list read more like a small circus what with Will and this Wickham and Bill Collins all arriving to shadow Lizzy and Mrs. Bennet (who said she'd bring along her girls, which made Charles sigh with 'anticipation'). And then there was Mr. Bennet, who was coming at Charles' request when he finally realized that he should tell the man about his situation with Jane; be honourable and all.

He wasn't sure what would happen first. If the Bennet girls would make Caroline go into a fit or if Will and George would wind up in a brawl over the table.

At least they'd have a lovely meal before that. Charles had sent off the menu to the caterers after asking Jane hour upon the hour what she wanted for her cravings and getting her response.

His little and casual dinner party was going to be an event to remember; whether for better or worse.

* * *

The first guest to arrive was Will and that was only because he only had to arrive from upstairs, where he had gone to great pains to look good. Charles glanced up from lighting the candles at the table to give him a curious look. "You look dapper." 

"Only you would call this dapper," Will replied, with something of a wry smile. "I knew you were my friend for a reason. Well, what do you think?"

"You mean, do I think a certain female will like it," Charles interpreted and gave him the order to turn. As Will did, Charles noticed that the trousers were very much styled so as to fit _perfectly_ (if a little on the too-tight side) and the colour of the silk shirt suited his eyes. "Darce, if she doesn't like it, she's mad. Just don't go catching Jane's eye," he teased.

That was met with a simple noise, even. "How are you two faring? With the wedding called off and all?"

Charles stared at the table as he set it, trying very very hard not to look up at Will, lest he be figured out for lying. He really was a terrible liar. "Steady as it goes, you know. I love her," he said, candid about that as he simply smiled stupidly at solely the thought of Jane. He wondered what she was wearing tonight and that was about the time Will lost the potential of decent conversation.

Will left the room, presumably to keep getting ready, which allowed for Charles to finish setting the long banquet table and pick music to play for the evening, which he already knew would get blasted by Kitty and Lydia for 'not being current enough'. And heaven forbid he choose something not-classical, because then Mr. Bennet would give him an earful about deafening him.

Sometimes, he sighed to himself, he wondered why he and Jane couldn't just move away to the country and shun phones and the post. Of course, Lizzy and Will could come. But that was it. Them and possibly a dog. And obviously, his future son or daughter (but he really was hoping for a son).

There was a knock at the door, accompanied by the bell being rung and Charles glanced up to hear Elizabeth's voice flooding the halls. "Coming in!" she announced, heading straight to the dining room and giving Charles a warm hug. "Oh god," she announced, seeing the table. "You talked to Mama, didn't you?"

"For thirty minutes," Charles announced, but it was done while beaming.

Elizabeth looked rather wonderful. She was decked in a deep-red dress, strapless and made of a shining material. She was barefoot and her hair was pinned up, makeup done perfectly. Will was in trouble, it looked like. But then, Charles thought that his best friend could do with a bit of trouble every now and again.

"Well, on behalf of our family, I apologize," Elizabeth assured, giving his arm a friendly squeeze.

Rather than replying though, Charles got stuck staring at the doorway as Jane wandered in, prying her heels off of her feet. "…muh." That was about all he managed. She was wearing light blue satin with very thin straps, but his eyes roved lower to see that the dress was cut to mid-thigh and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, certain parts of her were getting rounder. Her hair was pinned elaborately up, tiny tendrils framing her flushed face and the lipstick shone in the light.

At the moment, Charles Bingley was heavily in love with the notion of pregnancy as a whole.

"Charlie," Elizabeth teased with a warm laugh, "don't even think about it. Janie is not to be ravaged before dinner," she said, a protective hand on her sister's back. Jane was smiling as well, but it was demure as ever. That, of course, didn't stop him from hurrying forward to kiss her longly, not caring that Lizzy was standing right there. She knew them by now.

When he eased away, he was laughing warmly. "I'm sorry I ruined your lipstick," he immediately blurted out.

"I hardly mind," she promised, sweetly as always. She took his hand as they wandered into the room and Jane sat to note the names on the placards, seeing her name next to Charlie's, something he had arranged quite in secret. "Bill is attending? As well as George and Will?"

In face of news so disastrous, Elizabeth paled, Charlie gulped, and the room seemed to shudder in the dreadful anticipation.

Jane, simply, gave a nod.

Charlie was left to admire the simple grace that Jane took dire news in when the door was knocked. "Charles," Caroline called from upstairs, sounding very much at her leisure. As far as Charlie knew, she was 'enjoying a bubble bath, like civilized people, honestly Charles, how _do_ you relax?' He had bit his tongue to prevent from saying 'without you around'.

Elizabeth offered a broad smile. "I'll get it," she promised, leaning in to kiss the top of Jane's head as she left the room, leaving Charlie and Jane in the only privacy they would have for the whole evening.

"George?" Of all the names she had sifted through, Jane had chosen simply to focus on the one. "Charles, darling, isn't he the one Will doesn't like?"

"The very one."

That voice belonged to Will himself, who was fidgeting with his cuffs in the doorway of the dining room, offering as much of a smile as the man possessed (terse and pulling at the corners of his lips). Jane offered her usual beatific smile and Charlie grinned madly at the sight of his best friend (who didn't look half bad himself; not as though he had any way of knowing).

"Are you content to let this be?" Jane asked curiously. "I'm sure we could work something out."

"Jane, really," Will insisted, squeezing her shoulder as he took his seat. "I'll be fine. If I can manage your mother…"

Charlie winced. With most people, that might have been a joke, but coming from Will, it sounded so thoroughly disapproving and upsetting. Jane hardly reacted, just set her lips in a frowning, even line. Any reply though got stuffed when high, riotous giggling filled the halls, signalling that Mrs. Bennet, her husband, and the girls were there.

"…and then he danced with me _again_, Kitty, and that's why you should have…"

"Mama, tell her to STOP."

"I don't see why you both care so much about stupid dancing."

"Mary!" Three voices in tandem accused, the third belonging to Mrs. Bennet, to which Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes. Charlie suppressed a laugh, but he didn't do it very well, because it came out as a guffaw, to which Jane covered by rubbing his back, masquerading it as a cough.

Trailing all of them was a short, disagreeable looking man.

"Bill," Jane whispered gently, to which Charlie was grateful.

He might have otherwise assumed him to be the coat rack. A very short, disagreeable looking coat rack who was carrying…Bibles?

Oh, but this was going to be a disaster of an evening.

* * *

The argument had broken out between dinner and dessert and had resulted in cutlery thrown on the floor, chairs scraping against the hardwood, Jane excusing herself to the bathroom due to 'indigestion' and Elizabeth storming out the front door with George Wickham. 

That left Charlie with a mess, the Bennet staring at him curiously, and Bill Collins looking at the wine curiously. "Is this an import?"

Charlie simply took half the plates with him into the kitchen, not even minding if he broke anything, because Will was already in the kitchen, picking up the pieces of the broken wine glass that Elizabeth had thrown when Will had called her on associating with someone like George Wickham.

The reaction had been just about what Charlie expected.

"Need help?" Charlie asked, watching Will carefully.

Will seemed to pause, crouched over and with pieces of fragile, broken glass in his hands. "Do you mean with my love life, or the cleanup?"

"Both, actually."

"If I've lost her to Wickham…" Will's words were especially heavy and Charlie understood, because from what he had heard, he was rather vile about deceiving people, but Lizzy was so stubborn that until she saw it, she'd never believe. "If I've lost her to _him_ of all people, I really don't think this time I'll get her back, no matter what I say or do."

That put Charlie in a perilous place, one he didn't know how to navigate out of.

"I'd suggest talking to her, but I don't think she'd take your calls, mate," he teased, which at least got a bit of a snort out of Will. There was a knock at the door that got both the men's attention, as it was Mr. Bennet standing there above them all and looking generally disapproving. "Sir!" Charlie immediately snapped to full height.

"Should I bother bringing the plates in?" he inquired. "Or are we just smashing them all to avoid the cleanup."

"Actually, Mr. Bennet, if I could…well, would you like a brandy in the study? I just got a damn good shipment," Charlie rambled nervously, because this was the most difficult part of everything. He wasn't exactly sure how this conversation would go. He just hoped it would be _well_.

"In the study," Mr. Bennet agreed, gaze flickering to Will. "I'll leave you to my daughter's path of destruction."

Charlie followed along, feeling all too much like the redheaded puppy and when he shut the door behind him, his heart jumped into his throat at the sound of the door closing. He turned slowly, watching the older man pour glasses of brandy for the both of them and Charlie went through his speech again; he'd rehearsed it a dozen times, but he still didn't feel prepared.

"Good brandy," Mr. Bennet opined. "And what did you drag me in here for?"

Charlie pressed his back up against the oak panelling of the door, offering a polite smile, just deciding to go on ahead and dive right in.

"Well, you see, Mr. Bennet."

_Now or never, Charlie._

"I've gone and gotten Jane a little bit pregnant."

And then there were two broken glasses to contend with.

tbc


	8. I Hate You, I Love You

"A little bit pregnant," Mr. Bennet echoed in that dry and sarcastic way he had of expressing things. "Well, then, Charles, it's a good thing you didn't decide to go all the way or you'd have a full baby to contend with." Charlie flushed furiously, his cheeks a high colour of red to match his hair. "And when did this 'little bit'," he said, slowly, "begin to grow?"

"Some time ago?" he managed, wondering if he would be killed now or later. "Jane and I were so sure of the wedding that we made immediate plans to get a headstart on things. We just didn't expect Will to go off the way he did."

"I always did wonder at your resolve. You've called off your wedding to a woman you love, a very deserving woman, because your best friend has decided it wouldn't suit you?" Mr. Bennet scoffed and shook his head.

"Actually…"

"Charles?"

Charlie was having a rough time of trying to explain this to the man who was going to be his father-in-law very, very quickly. "You see, sir, the wedding isn't off. It's still on, but it's much, much smaller. Myself, Jane, Elizabeth, yourself and Mrs. Bennet, and your other daughters, should you wish." It was the best way to both explain that Will didn't know about that, nor the baby. "And you are the fourth person to know about the baby. And I don't know if it's _possible_, but maybe you won't tell Mrs. Bennet just yet? We really are trying to keep it quiet, if for nothing else, for Jane's purity."

"And just when is this secret wedding to be?"

"Four weeks from now," Charlie said, eyes sparkling excitedly. "We're arranging a small chapel and a dinner afterwards and really, Mr. Bennet, sir, all I want is to be with Jane. And I would like your approval."

"You've gone and made me a grandfather," Mr. Bennet observed. "I suppose I have to give you my approval now or forever lose my grandchild and Jane to your ways."

It wasn't a blow of death, so that meant that Charlie was a step ahead when it came to the whole mess. Now, if he could just find where Will had gone to and try to bring him around to the whole notion of the marriage going on as it should. 

* * *

Darcy had two roads sitting before him, each of them holding an unhappy prospect that he didn't much want to consider. On the one hand, he could retire home for the night and ignore all of the mess that had occurred. On the other, he could chase after Elizabeth and explain away his outburst at dinner and why his mood had been so absolutely foul around _Wickham_, that worthless space of a man.

In the end, Darcy ran away from no challenge and immediately took off in his car in the direction that Elizabeth had gone, schooling his anger on the off-chance that he would meet Wickham in the process of talking to his girlfriend. Or rather, his ex-girlfriend. Perhaps he should just stay with girlfriend; it helped to focus his attention on the matter at hand, like not letting her slip under Wickham's wiles.

God, how was he going to explain all of this to Georgie?

He'd been driving past the park when he noticed her on the bench, sitting all on her own and looking radiant in the moonlight, like she always did. The moon had a way of catching Elizabeth's skin and making her shine like a goddess and though most people vowed that Jane was the beauty of the family, William Darcy politely begged to disagree.

He parked and made his way over, a hesitant look all around to see if Wickham was lurking.

"He's not here, you know," Elizabeth remarked ruefully, watching him like Darcy had become her prey. "He had a standing card game with friends and I wasn't about to make him sit here and comfort me because you were an unforgivable arsehole," she spat out. Darcy steeled himself and came to a rest above the bench.

"There is more to him than you understand, Elizabeth."

"Don't tell me things like that," she argued, rising to her feet to push into his personal space. "I hate when you do that, Will."

Something like hope struck him in his chest. She only called him Will when there was the slightest chance of reconciliation, that she might not hate him eternally. Maybe, if God was just and all was right in the universe, maybe it wouldn't take the letter of explanation in his pocket to do all the talking for him and maybe Wickham's behaviour had already shown Elizabeth how he was.

"I worry for you," he admitted, and though his voice only shook once, his gaze turned downcast. "I'm hardly stupid enough to think I could claim you in any way, nor be your knight. I do, however, prefer to think that I can protect you from the things in life that might hurt you."

"Oh? And what might that be?" she demanded, closer and closer still.

It was taking all of Darcy's willpower and all the strength he had in his veins to not pull her closer and kiss her. He knew that she might shove him away, might _slap_ him if he did so, but when he was this close, her lower lip jutted out so stubbornly and her skin looked so calm and pale, he wished nothing more than to touch it.

"You don't understand Wickham. He's not what he makes himself out to be," Darcy managed to school his emotions.

"And what is he, then? He's told me everything. Everything!"

That earned a derisive laugh from Darcy and he pulled a step back before easing forward, no longer wishing to kiss her so much as wanting to deliver each of his words to the most powerful end, to make her see the folly of her ways.

"Is this your mother at work?" he demanded, coolly. "He has no money, Elizabeth. Nor does he have any honour or anything resembling_goodness_ in that black heart of his."

"So Mr. Darcy says?" Elizabeth retorted, just as coolly and devoid of emotion. "I fear for a world judged through your eyes. No one would ever be happy and forgiveness would eventually disappear."

Closer and closer he swayed, closer to her and not understanding why it was that she couldn't just listen to him.

"Elizabeth," he pleaded, once more. "Don't trust that man." He dug out the sealed letter and held it out for her. "Take this. You don't have to look at it immediately, but please, take it."

She seemed to avoid even looking at him for the longest of moments, but eventually, she snatched the envelope from his hand and glared at him witheringly, the space between their faces virtually nonexistent. She glared at him for a long moment in which time slipped away and then pulled herself out of the orbit of their words and stormed off in the direction of her home.

Darcy was left standing on his own atop a field of dewy grass, hoping that she would see Wickham's true character; before it was too late. 

* * *

Elizabeth nearly screamed as she stormed back into the house, ignoring her Mother's pleas for her to come back into the dining room and talk to Bill for a while. If she talked to that insufferable man, she might just drop a Bible or two on his toes. Instead, she crumpled up the envelope in her hands and slammed Jane's door behind her.

She'd been given the room until Deacon Bill cleared out.

Elizabeth dropped the crumpled envelope on the desk, hitting the 'Play' button on the machine and rubbing her eyes as she sat down to pry off her shoes and debate sneaking downstairs and into her father's study for some of his best wine.

"You have one new message," the machine informed her.

"It better not be Will," Elizabeth muttered to herself, rubbing her feet while letting down her long hair and trying desperately not to keep thinking of that moment out there on the field.

"Janie, darling." Elizabeth groaned at the lazy and dulcet feminine tones on the answering machine. The second-worst thing to having Will calling to plead for Jane to help him was Caroline calling for whatever horrible reason she had. "I just wanted to call and ask how you were doing, dear. I only wish for the best you know."

Immediately, Elizabeth had taken to mocking her_entirely_ fake delivery and wishing that Jane would let herself see that there wasn't all goodness to Caroline Bingley.

"Anyways, I just wanted to make sure that what you saw at our place is going to be our little secret. After all, we don't want your sister getting all **huffy**. It does her no favours."

Elizabeth froze where she was. "What?" she demanded. "Keeping what from me?"

The message was new and hadn't been played yet, so Jane had yet to hear this. At least Elizabeth could take comfort in the fact that her sister wasn't wilfully keeping anything from her. But _what_ secret could Caroline possibly share with Jane about the Bingley and Darcy place?

"After all," Caroline trilled. "The last thing we need is to make her feel bad that her Will has begun to move on with me."

It felt, in that moment, as if all the walls had come crashing down about her.

"WHAT?" Elizabeth shouted.

"What's the matter, my dear?" Mr. Bennet's voice drifted upstairs.

"Darcy's sleeping with the devil!" she protested, still in heavy shock. 

* * *

"Charlie," Jane was speaking softly as he removed her coat for her and hung it perfectly on the hangers at his home. "Daddy doesn't mind. You can stop sweating now," she teased gently, brushing his brow with the backs of her knuckles.

"I don't think I can stop just yet," he admitted.

Out of the corner of their eyes, neither noticed Caroline sidling up on the stairwell. "Jane," she greeted. "Charlie. You didn't get my message then?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Jane answered politely.

"Hm. Anyway. It's just the silly old matter of me being in Will's room the other night. I think it's best kept between us. After all, the fact that Will is slowly moving on can't be good…"

"Moving on?" Charlie interrupted.

"I told you, Charles," Caroline said, evenly. "Will is a gentleman, and one you could take a lesson or two from." She rounded herself on the stairs, draping an arm over the banister while looking at both Jane and Charlie. "He spoke without end about that horrid Wickham until I fell asleep in his arms. And then, _perfect man _that he is, he gave me his own bed while he braved the couch."

She was smiling to herself, brushing a thumb over her lips.

"I don't think your sister needs to worry herself over that when she has her new little gambling man-slut to worry over."

Jane frowned, giving Charlie a confused look and a mildly disapproving one to Caroline in turn for speaking of her sister like that. Before she could ask for clarification, Caroline had already swanned off to go and be herself somewhere else.

"Charlie?" Jane asked, firmly. "What is going on?"

"Well, Caroline's clearly made herself a reality and…"

"Not that." At least, not yet. She could think on that later. "What is it about Wickham that no one is telling me?"

tbc


	9. The Truth Will Come Out

Elizabeth had yet to look at the envelope that Darcy had given to her because she was too utterly preoccupied with the fact that he apparently was sleeping with Caroline

Elizabeth had yet to look at the envelope that Darcy had given to her because she was too utterly preoccupied with the fact that he apparently was _sleeping with Caroline_? No, even thinking the words didn't sound right. They sounded rather ill, like someone had been sputtering up syllables and were all wrong. Caroline was very pretty, Lizzy would give her that, but for all her outer beauty, the inner cruelty tended to throw a dull patina of, well… 'bitch' upon her.

It was two in the morning and she hadn't been able to sleep because every time she closed her eyes, she began to envision the same scene over and over again and it went something like this:

"Oh Caroline, you must let me kiss you."

"I'd love nothing more than to suck face with you Will, just let me take off every inch of makeup and then I'll talk horribly about Elizabeth some more."

It tended to go on like that and Elizabeth didn't know how much longer she could let her mind torture her in such a way. She'd stuffed a pillow over her head, but that only blocked out the sound of Bill snoring in the guest room – which admittedly helped, just not in the way she liked. So rather than lie awake any longer, she decided to pull on her houserobe and wander until she could find some semblance of drowsiness. First she had watched television, but a petulant Lydia had informed her that the sound was wrecking her beauty sleep, so that also ruled out the piano, though Lizzy didn't rule out playing and waking the whole damn house up.

Instead, though, she picked up the crumpled envelope containing the letter from Mr. Darcy and started to pace with it in her hands. There was a very probable chance that whatever was in the letter was going to cause her further unraveling, but it might explain the completely and utterly senseless hate that Mr. Darcy had for George, considering _everything_ the poor man had endured from the Darcy family.

She took her decision to the kitchen and sat with a cup of tea to her right and the letter to her left.

Trust Will, of course, to put everything in words. Trust that blasted man to be incapable of stringing his sentences together and making an actual attempt at an explanation. It almost made Lizzy want to burn the letter, but it felt thick and she knew the care Will always put into his letters…with his perfect calligraphy, the old parchment he used…

Lizzy mostly wished she didn't still love the utter bastard, because then things would be so much easier, but no matter how much they fought, she never could get over the fact that she really did see herself spending forever with him. The problem was, she wasn't ready to commit to forever until Will was less moody, less unpredictable, less of a gale that wrecked whatever it wanted in its path, like her sister's relationship and George Wickham.

She blamed sleep deprivation for opening the letter, in the end. She couldn't be blamed. It was four in the morning, she hadn't slept, and that lingering affection for Will had begun to creep back in. She was surprised that she lasted as long as she did.

The letter opened easily and read even easier, though Lizzy could see the flow of emotions as Will's script became more sloppy and gradually neatened, as though he had paused in his writing to compose himself.

She mouthed along certain parts as she read it.

This was…

How could it…

How could Wickham!

When Lizzy was finished reading the letter for the fourth time, the sun had risen and Mr. Bennet had come to the kitchen to begin preparing his morning coffee. Lizzy, for her part, was still staring forward in a pure state of shellshock.

"Coffee, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet mumbled in a sleepy fashion. "Or would you prefer a cold bucket of ice water?"

"The former, Papa, is more and more attractive by the second," Lizzy replied in a daze, still running over the contents of the letter in her mind as she hurried to her feet, grasping the house phone. "I need to see Will. Immediately. Or George. No, George first, then Will."

She needed to give George a chance to explain himself, just in case Will was blatantly lying just to get her back. But when in his entire life had Will ever _lied_ to her? It was all wrong and she wanted the puzzle pieces to put it back together and make it right. She pounded her way up the stairs, not even caring anymore about waking the house – at least, not since her father was awake. He was the only one outside Jane that she wouldn't irritate on purpose.

It took her less than five minutes to pull on whatever would suit her – in this case, a pair of ratty old jeans and one of her hoodies atop a simple t-shirt before she shouted out a "Back later! Maybe!" to the house at large and left, keys in hand.

George's flat was her first stop and where she stayed for fifteen minutes, leaning on the buzzer with her thumb while she pressed her forehead to his door. Nothing and then more nothing and then more. She doubted he would ignore that kind of pest, so he likely wasn't there.

The problem was, he also wasn't picking up when she called him.

This, with all the information of the note implied to her one thing:

_George Wickham had skipped town._

No, it implied two things, but the second wasn't something Lizzy wanted to admit so easily because it was a very annoying little piece of information and it went a little something like this:

_Will Darcy was right._

Oh, he was going to be insufferable.

* * *

She had dropped by the townhome that Charlie and Will shared to be greeted by Jane, who looked better than she did in the mornings, but still had that faint look of sickness to her, which was easily explained by the fact that her morning sickness had yet to abate. Lizzy had pressed a palm to Jane's stomach and instructed her niece or nephew to behave before finding that Will had supposedly gone home for the weekend.

"Thanks," Lizzy had said, hugging her sister tightly. "I'll go search the grounds. If I'm not back in two days, send help."

She joked, she did, but it wasn't that far off the mark.

Pemberley was gigantic and a person could get lost on the grounds easily. There were rumours out there that a person **had** gotten lost when they'd taken a right instead of a left and apparently, turned up half-starved into town the next week. But really, they were only rumours. She, luckily, completely knew the way and could navigate it with her eyes closed.

She rang the bell, expecting (and almost hoping) to be greeted by one of the staff. The alternative, however, was much more welcome and Lizzy brightened when it was Georgiana who pulled the door open and immediately tackled her with a hug. "Lizzy!" she exhaled cheerfully. "It's been far, far too long, are you here to see Will?"

"Is he around?" Lizzy asked hopefully.

"No, he's gone to do some business, but I won't let you leave," Georgie announced brightly. "Come on, we can make some popcorn and put in a few movies until he gets back. What did you want to talk to him about?"

The letter was nearly burning a hole in Lizzy's pocket and she tensed.

_…broke Georgiana's heart and she had to watch as he not only left, but began an affair with another woman right under her nose..._

"Oh, just the usual. He's being a stubborn arse and so am I," Lizzy lied effortlessly and it was made easier by the fact that part of it wasn't a lie at all. They were perfectly suited for each other, but it meant that they couldn't possibly make things easy for each other. She hooked her arm with Georgiana's, letting the door fall shut behind them. "The usual? Romantic comedies followed by serious art-house pieces?"

"You know me too well, Lizzy," Georgie agreed.

At least Lizzy would have a pleasurable evening before the tense and awkward conversation with Will had to take place.

--

"Charles, my hand hurts," Jane said, very politely.

He had been clasping it ridiculously tightly as they sat in the doctor's office while waiting for the doctor to return. Jane was clad in a hospital gown and was lying perfectly still upon the table, waiting for an image of their baby to be broadcast to them, even if it would be little more than a tiny pea of a blob on a screen.

And Charlie had been squeezing Jane's hand with a death grip. It made Jane slightly concerned for what would happen during the actual birth.

By the time the doctor returned, they had been having a quiet discussion of living arrangements (to which Charlie had suggested the unused country home and Jane had murmured that it was a possibility, even if it was further from her family than she truly liked).

"Well, are we ready to take a look?"

"Yes! Yes, we are," Charlie announced eagerly, clapping his hands together – having let go of Jane after her light reprimand – and the two of them watched in awe as the image was broadcast over the screen.

By the time they left, they also had a picture in their possession and Charlie couldn't stop staring at it as Jane paced outside the clinic with her mobile, trying to get a hold of Lizzy and tell her just _what_ was going on with the Caroline situation. Knowing Caroline, the message she left could be potentially disastrous and she didn't want her sister thinking that Will had moved on when really, Caroline was just mistaking the decency of a gentleman as romantic affections.

"Come on, Lizzy, pick up," Jane softly entreated.

But there was still no answer.

"Well?" Charlie asked, as Jane folded her phone back into her purse. He was answered quickly enough when Jane shook her head to indicate a negative. "I'm sure she won't jump to any conclusions," he assured. "And if she does, well…she's bound to take it out on Darcy and that just means they'll be talking again." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Don't worry," he murmured. "They'll fix things."

"I hope so," Jane concurred and took the print out to look at it herself. "Your child is uncharacteristically small," she teased lightly.

"He'll grow big and strong."

"He? Darling, did I not tell you I've been praying for a daughter?"

"Daughters can play baseball too," Charlie said firmly, taking Jane's hand in his. "Come on. I'm taking you out for dinner in celebration and I won't say a word about anything strange you want to eat."

Jane was more than happy to have Charlie back with her, because she honestly couldn't imagine doing any of this without him. Now she reserved all her hopes that Lizzy could work things out with Darcy or move on with Wickham, even if that man was laden with so many layers of secrets that Jane wasn't so sure about him.

tbc


	10. Burning Bridges & Fixing Fences

Will spent the last five minutes of a dreadfully horrid meeting checking the messages on his phone, sent in steady progression from Georgiana as she watched an array of movies that she felt compelled to tell him about. He made sure to give his assent to proposals and remarks with a steady grunt, which somehow managed to fool the lot of them into thinking he was paying attention.

The very last message came at the end of his meeting and caught his attention wholly.

_btw, Lizzy is here. Did I mention?_

Will thought a wry, 'no, Georgie, you happened to neglect that' to himself before he scooped up his things in a mad dash, smiling politely to the various property management specialists about him who were helping to procure him a very lovely house, the sort you might 'start a life in' as the saying went.

"Sorry lads, I've got to dash," he apologised with a polite smile that somehow managed to still be icy despite his very best efforts. Then, Will really had little use for them outside of the office and all they could do was help him with a home. Georgiana, however, could help him make amends with Elizabeth as she always seemed to have her finger on the pulse of what he'd done wrong and what he had to do in order to fix it. Just as he was hurrying to make it to his car and drive to home, his mobile began to ring.

He paused in the lobby to answer, a desperate, "Georgie?" on his lips.

"Sorry to disappoint," came Charles' bemused reply. "I don't think she and I have looked alike since that one Halloween though."

Will sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, debating whether to politely cut off the reception and argue that he'd gone through a tunnel, but no matter what, he had to at least find out what was the matter. "What's going on?"

"We need to talk, Will," Charles said, all that joking gone from his voice and Will didn't need to look him in the eye to know that something was going on. "It's long past time." He was nearly _grave_. William Darcy was almost worried, truth be told, and he set aside his desperate plans to woo Elizabeth back for the moment.

"Name the place."

Will closed his phone the moment Charles told him to come home iimmediately/i and that they had something extremely serious to discuss. He toyed with the mobile, debating calling Georgiana and telling her to make sure to keep Lizzy for as long as possible, but he didn't need to appear desperate.

Halfway home, he changed his mind on that point.

He was pulling into the drive of the townhouse and speaking quietly to his sister as he did, glancing up at the home before him. "I promise I'll be there as soon as I can. Charles needs to talk to me about something." He slowly juggled the mobile and his briefcase, dodging out of the car. "Yes. Yes, Georgie_, yes_ of course I want to see her, just don't tell her. I will be there soon, for the love of God, just don't let her leave."

She sweetly promised him that she would do her very best and left him with a dead line and a conversation ahead.

He felt utterly torn apart lately. Between George Wickham reappearing in their lives and making a gambit at the Bennet family and Charles' near-brush with marriage into the family while Mrs. Bennet still seemed to wish for nothing more than money, he didn't really know what to think.

Although, that wasn't entirely true.

The moment he got out of his car and saw the dire and serious look on Bingley's face, he knew that something serious was afoot.

'We need to talk' was no longer apparently a monopoly held by longstanding relationships and best-friends also had the right to send shivers of dread into each others' hearts with those four words. And Charles Bingley looked very much like he wanted to talk.

His fingers cramped down on a piece of paper and Will gave him a weary look as he ascended the steps to the townhouse and locked the car. "This won't go too long, will it?" he asked brusquely. "Lizzy is with Georgiana and I want to see her before Wickham somehow interjects himself in our lives again."

"I told Jane about that," Bingley offered as they entered the house. "About all of it."

"I expected as much," Will commented, giving a nod. "Well? What did you want to talk about?"

Bingley looked him up and down and flashed that mad smile he had, the one he got when there was a scheme afoot or when he wanted a favour out of Will or perhaps some combination of the both at once. It was also the smile that happened to grace his face whenever Jane happened upon the room and Charles lost all sight of the world around him. Fools in love, Elizabeth had once called them. _"Utterly adorable, wonderful fools in love",_ she'd put it with a look of love in her eyes.

"Hopefully about you becoming my best man, once more," Bingley remarked. When Will looked up from his thoughts, he found that the mad grin had yet to fall away from Charles' face and for a very long moment, Will thought that he was in the possession of a joke.

Except Bingley wasn't laughing.

And the engagement ring was back on his finger.

"We're so tired of pretending," Charles commented. "And especially with the baby on the way, there's so little reason to keep going on like this and I _know _you think I'm an idiot for not signing a pre-nup and I _know_ that you think her mother just wants Jane to marry me so she can get at my money and we'll divorce at the first ill turn, but it's not like that and Will…well, I'm tired of you directing my life and hiding behind your advice when you can't even manage your own," he snapped in a very un-Charles-like way.

Will could only assume that Wickham's presence was driving everyone to the bounds of madness.

"Charles, take a moment and think about what you're saying," Will entreated.

"We're getting married," Charles said firmly. "And you can either stand up there and be my best man or you can continue to think ill of the family of the woman I love. The same family that your Lizzy belongs to."

They stared at each other for a very long moment at this impasse, neither willing to budge. Will wouldn't give in when he still held the belief that Charles should sign something that protected his assets and Charles seemed determined to fly on the hope of love alone.

Charles shook his head and pushed the paper his way. "I hoped you wouldn't be like this," he muttered. "This is the baby."

With that, he departed the front hall and left the fight as it was. Neither diffused nor resolved.

"Fuck," Will swore uncharacteristically when the upstairs bedroom door slammed shut and Caroline Bingley came calling to find out what was wrong and he was decidedly _not_ in the mood to deal with her at that precise moment.

His phone buzzed at his hip again and he dragged it out to see the message.

_get over here NOW! She's leaving!_

Will glanced upstairs for a moment longer and, car keys in hand, he turned and made his way out the door. If Charles wasn't going to listen to reason (even if he had the sinking feeling that he was ignoring reason a good deal, himself), then he wasn't going to linger about any longer to see what was going to come of this disaster.

--

It took him less time than usual to reach his childhood home and even though it was raining, he paid little attention to the slickness of the roads as he was determined and bound to do one thing and one thing only: Reach Elizabeth. He had to convince her that Wickham was not the dashing prince that she thought he was and if she had yet to open his letter, he would use as many persuasive words he had in him until his breath left his body.

He was soaking wet by the time he made it inside and first heard the crystal clear sounds of laughter coming from the den.

"Will!"

"Oh god, Will," Elizabeth gasped to match Georgiana's worried cry of his name. He was creating something of a puddle on the floor as he stared in consternation at the both of them and found himself drawn to staring at Elizabeth and wondering just what she thought of him. It seemed he would not have to wait very long to discover the answer to his wonderings as she was on her feet and crossing the distance between them in scant seconds, pressing her lips to his and mouthing a soft 'I'm sorry' against them. "I read your letter," she hurried to explain. "Will, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, I'm sorry…"

"She's been telling me all afternoon," Georgiana reinforced quietly from just behind. "I keep saying she had absolutely nothing to apologize about. Does she, Will?"

He ignored his sister for the moment and clasped Elizabeth's hands within his own, giving her another devoted kiss. "Lizzy, come to the country with me," he pleaded desperately. "Just for a day or two to get away from this all and to help us patch things…"

"Of course," she agreed instantly. "Of course. I have enough things that we can leave from here. Will, I'm still sorry."

"You needn't apologize. Georgie is right," he remarked ruefully, as came all admissions of his sister's tendency to be right in all matters. "Come on, we can make it to the cottage before nightfall if we hurry."

Elizabeth seemed to positively glow and for a moment, Will could forget that while he was mending ways in one place, he was harming them in yet another area of his life.

"Let's go," he insisted once more.

--

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Jane remarked, her normally calm demeanor high-strung and tense. "Yes, and I can't get a hold of Lizzy. Her mobile is out of range or off or…Charlie, I don't know what to do," she got the words out with a heavy amount of distress in her voice. "Lizzy is the one who takes this sort of news and who manages to make a clear plan out of it. I…"

"Jane," Charles commented evenly. "Let's go talk to your mother and see if Kitty is just elaborating a story. Then we'll send a telegram out to all of …all of Darcy's places," he said with a bit of bitterness to his tone, "to get ahold of her. Okay?" He rubbed his palms up and down her shoulders, trying to coax a smile from her with a nervous one of his own. "It'll be fine. It'll all be fine."

"For Lydia's sake," Jane murmured, "I do hope so."

tbc


	11. The Miseries of Family

It was bliss.

Will Darcy was absolutely convinced of this simple fact as he stared at the ceiling of the country home, Lizzy curled up in his arms. It was true that things weren't precisely mended. They'd taken off with only Georgiana aware of where they had gone and a brief message to Jane to assure her that they were both safe. After that, all devices had been turned off and Will was trying to figure the whole of the thing out.

"Did you know?" he asked a sleeping and naked woman.

Elizabeth turned slightly, rumpled and groggy. "Mm? Will, you know better than to ask me things when I'm far, _far_ too tired to understand the question."

"Jane. Jane and Charles."

"Are we still on this issue?" she sighed as she turned right back over and curled up with the covers, burying herself in them. Her attempts to drown out both the world and Darcy were hardly successful as he just pried them right back down. "Apparently we are. Okay, Will. What do you want me to say? My mother can be very blunt, very direct, and yes, she may want money so Mary and Kitty can be secure if anything happens to Papa, but you really think, you _really_ think deep down in your heart, that Jane is a golddigger? There isn't an insincere bone in that woman's body! Beyond that, she is pregnant with my niece or nephew. The two of them having a child out of wedlock would probably scandalize them. They're probably already having panic attacks about it."

She took in a deep breath, having just delivered her lengthy diatribe without pause and without second thoughts.

"They want to be a family, Will. And you hate our family because you think my father can be crude and my sisters out of touch with society and my mother wants money this and money that, but there is no fault in Jane. She loves your best friend. She iloves/i him."

There was an archness to Lizzy's tone now, as though Darcy would be in great trouble if he ignored her any further.

"I'm not asking you to forgive the both of them over keeping this from you. I'm asking you to stop holding this insane prejudice against my sister for faults that don't belong to her." She softened with a long exhalation and a collapse atop his chest. "That's all."

"That's all, is it?" Darcy echoed, deadpanned and slightly mocking. "Because that's not a tall order."

"It's really not if you don't want sharp objects impaled by your erstwhile girlfriend."

Darcy paused at that, fingers frozen before they could continue in brushing aside the wavy lengths of her hair. "My girlfriend?" he echoed quietly, not daring to charge forward and somehow break this accord before it was set in stone. He didn't want to bring names up – not Wickham, not Bill, and certainly nothing to do with their arguments. They were making progress. He couldn't afford to harm that, now. "Does this mean we're…"

"Tentatively." She smirked wryly up at him. "Don't do anything to muck it up."

He opened his mouth to make a remark in reply, but was cut off by a knock at the door.

Lizzy groaned and buried her face in the nearest pillow. "Don't answer it," she pleaded, one hand on Will's chest as if the force of her palm alone could keep him from making his way to the door and answering it. Still, that wasn't enough to keep him from getting up and hopping into a sensible pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, kissing Lizzy on the forehead the once before making the trek across the room to the front door.

Lizzy chose to try and fall back to sleep after five minutes had passed and Will had yet to return to her.

She only decided to get up and follow when it had been ten minutes and he still wasn't back. She secured her robe tightly and walked down the paths of familiar halls to find him, only discovering him when she made her way into the den. He was sitting in a chair and reading a letter, a look of pure shock and worry on his face that was instantly making good to fray Lizzy's nerves.

"Will, what is it?" she asked anxiously as she crossed the room in four efficient steps, prying the letter from him without even asking permission.

Her eyes scanned the words on the letter rapidly, trying to understand what it could possibly be. It was from Jane and Charlie, that much was patently clear, but what did it all…

_…no one can find her and Wickham has left town. Kitty's convinced that Lydia's simply taken off with the man and they'll be nowhere to be found. Mama is in fits and Papa looks as though he's ready to hunt the man down. There's no way Charles and I can continue forward with the wedding now, it's impossible._

Oh, Lizzy, I do wish you were here. I do so need you. We must find Lydia…

Lizzy gaped at the words on the page, feeling irritation boil slowly in her.

"That vile, black, heartless cad," she swore, reserving other choice profanities for later. There would be a long trip back to the city and she would have many a cursing out of Wickham (and, to a lesser extent, Lydia) on the trip home. She crumpled the letter and stormed back to the bedroom to start shoving clothing into her suitcase and make a dash for home. "If that man ever has the horrid luck to cross me, I'm going to throttle him," she announced fiercely, with great distaste in her voice. "He'd best pray that his neck doesn't find itself a place between my hands."

She glanced up at Darcy, eyes bugged wide.

"Well! Start packing!" she ordered.

He shook his head, smoothing the crumpled letter out upon his thigh. "No. I'm going to look for them. As much as it pains me to admit it, I know Wickham. I know his habits and I know where he'll go. If Lydia's given him any money, I can almost guarantee I know exactly where to find him. Go home to your family and I'll join you there."

Lizzy looked at him longingly, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "You swear?" she asked, her lips still brushing his with every spoken word. "You had best not let me down."

"I swear," Darcy assured her, his palm firm at the small of her back. "I know how much this means to you. I know how dear Lydia is. Go home. And tell Charles that he and I need to talk."

He parted reluctantly from her grasp and drifted, starting in on his own packing while Lizzy grasped her bags and made a dash for the front door, knowing that if she took the car, Darcy would find a way to make it home.

Mobile phone in hand, she tightened her jaw and knew that this was going to be a trying array of days to come.

"Mama, I'm coming home," Lizzy remarked when the ansaphone picked up rather than a person. "If you see Wickham before then, do make sure Papa _shoots_ him for me."

With not another word said, she was on the road.

*

Things were chaotic back at the house. For one, the front door wasn't even locked and was slightly ajar. Lizzy could even hear the arguing from down the block when she'd pulled up and it sounded almost as if a cat was being tortured (an easy mistake for anyone who had never heard Mrs. Bennet wail as loud as she could).

Lizzy paused in the foyer, having second thoughts about this. She wished, _oh_, how she wished that she had gone with Darcy. She took a deep breath and braced herself, pounding up the stairs to find her family and Charles hovering in Mama's room, all tending to her around the bed.

That was, of course, except for her father and Charles, who were tending to Jane on the nearest chair. Lizzy crossed the room to her sister while Mary whispered soothing words to their Mama.

"Jane, you look as ghastly as you ever could," Lizzy gently teased. "Which is to say still strikingly beautiful. Is she okay?" she asked, glancing up to Charlie.

"The doctor said it's the stress," Mr. Bennet said firmly. "We've taken good care of her, Lizzy, don't you worry. Your mother, however, is stressed to the point of no return. We fear there is no help for her."

"Papa," Lizzy scolded quietly, lifting herself to sink down on the bed. "Mama, Will has gone off to search for Wickham and Lydia." At the mention of Will's name, she could see Charlie's grimace in her peripheral vision and she had to wonder just how horrible the fight between them had been. "Mama, please, stop crying," Lizzy begged.

"How could she?" Mrs. Bennet spat out. "Of all the childish, immature, horrid things that Lydia has ever done, how icould/i she?"

There were looks exchanged about the room from everyone save for Mary and Kitty, tongues bitten and remarks held back. Lydia's antics were long discussed behind closed doors and no one had come up with a promising solution. Mr. Bennet's idea had been to send her away to boarding school, but they could hardly afford it and Lizzy knew that would only exarcerbate the issue.

"We will find her," Lizzy assured her Mama, clasping her hand tightly.

"She'll get a good thrashing," Mrs. Bennet promised, half-hysterical. "What does she think of me? Thinking that she can simply get away with this when we've done so much for her…"

Lizzy took another deep breath.

This wasn't going to be even half as simple as she'd hoped it might be. _Damn it, Lydia, _she thought to herself. _What have you done?_

TBC


	12. Proposition County

Will Darcy was on a mission. He had dropped Elizabeth off with her family in order to deal with the seemingly more pressing concern of her mother's fits while he was to go and find Lydia and George. By the time he arrived at the townhouse, he'd spoken to at least two private investigators that he had used in the past for personal and business purposes alike and had employed them in the search.

He didn't expect to find Caroline sitting on the lowest step when he entered the home in something of a mild frenzy.

"Will," she said and offered him a very long look. "Where have you _been_?"

"Now is not the time Caroline," Will warned, brushing past her to ascend the stairs and hurry as quickly as he could, vaulting up two of the steps at once. Considering that the woman trailing behind him was going to likely be a point of contention between him and Elizabeth the moment that their happiness wore away, he didn't wish to contribute to a problem. "Lydia is missing."

"Oh, what now?" Caroline remarked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Honestly, Will, this is why I insist that Charles shouldn't marry that girl. She may be sweet enough, but that family of hers is just one disaster after another!"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just directly insult Elizabeth's family," Will said curtly, pushing open his study to start rifling through drawers to look for receipts and other pieces of information that might lead him to Wickham. There had to be some casino or hotel or bar that he was holed up at, waiting to try and find some way to use Lydia for money. "Caroline, you were a good listener to me and you supported me for one night when I was down and I thank you for that," he added, clipped. "But that makes you little more than a friend to me."

"I thought," she demurred, "you just wanted to go slow."

"No. I don't. I didn't," he clarified, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings in regards to any of this situation. "I like you, Caroline. You're my best friends' sister, but you are not the woman I love and you are not the woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with."

There was no response.

Will took solace in the fact that he had managed to shut Caroline up very quickly, but that peace didn't last very long. After all, how could it when he saw a familiar flash of brown hair and soulful eyes staring at him from behind Caroline's slip of a form. He hadn't even heard the door open, but somehow Lizzy must have snuck in because there she stood gaping at him. He had no idea how much she had even heard.

"Well," Caroline said with a sneer. "If that's how you feel..."

"He's made it quite clear it is," Lizzy cut in sharply. "There will be a man for you, Caroline, but it's not this one." She didn't take her eyes off of Will the entire duration of her spoken words. "This one is mine." Will wasn't sure if Caroline was going to simply listen, but he wasn't going to pry his gaze away from Lizzy in order to find out. "You know," she mildly noted. "Caroline had left a message on the machine."

"Lizzy, why are you..."

"And I was ready to ream you out properly," she continued speaking, ignoring his interruption. "I thought to myself that it could wait, that I could properly discuss it with you later. But maybe now I don't have to. Nothing happened?"

"We talked. Maybe we curled up under a blanket, but with all our clothes on," Will insisted. "We're friends. We're just friends, we're nothing like you and me."

"I did note that," she added, pressing her fingers to her lips as if she was trying to conceal that broad grin on her face. "I'm sorry, it's just...you want to spend your life with me."

"I thought that was evident by my proposal ages back," Will noted in a deadpan.

"We were young, then, Will! And half-drunk and it was romantic and high on life. You want to be with me for the rest of my life because of who I am, despite my family, despite our problems, and even though you're probably still somewhat prejudiced against Jane marrying Charlie. Don't deny it, I know even you can't change in an instant. But you want to spend the rest of your days with me. Me. So I'm going to put all that aside and just say that when all this is over, we're going to talk," Lizzy said, stepping forward and toying with the lapels of his jacket, sliding her fingers up and down the fabric and leaning up against his body. "And you can kiss me, now," she added helpfully.

"I thank you greatly for your permission," Will murmured and leaned down to close the distance between them with a kiss, unable to help a mild laugh when she mumbled a distorted 'you're oh so welcome' against his lips.

Lizzy was the one to pull away, though Will knew that there were more important tasks at hand and while it was promising and easy to ignore them for happier things, Wickham was still somewhere out there doing god knew what with Lydia.

As much as the younger girl could be _trying_ (to say the least), she was still Elizabeth's sister.

Will tucked away receipts and addresses into his pockets. "I think I have a good idea about where we can start," he insisted. "How's your mother?"

"Practically fainting like some kind of southern belle," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "I'm more concerned about Jane. The doctor isn't so sure what this level of stress is going to do for her, but I've tasked Mary and Kitty to make sure that she's all right. Charlie is going to do the same. She'll be fine. Everyone will be fine, we just need to find Lydia."

Will reckoned that if anyone in the world was up to this task in particular, it was them. Lizzy had a stubborn streak that only Will could rival at some points in time and when brought together by a common enemy, they could be very dangerous.

"C'mon," she insisted, grabbing hold of Will's hand and yanking a picture of Wickham from off the desk. "Let's go catch this scum. And possibly during, you can think a little more about the fact that you've practically just proposed in a wholly unromantic way."

He unlocked the car as he hurried down the steps and gave Lizzy a completely baffled look. "I'm sorry?"

She entered the passenger's seat and gave him a long and dubious look. "I mean, yes, the blurted confession was terribly romantic, I suppose, but where was the romance? Where were the fireworks? You didn't even get down on a knee!"

"Which would have looked odd, considering I was speaking to Caroline at the time," he said, utterly beguiled as to what this was all about, but he could see her practically laughing and so he began to lighten up as well, honestly sometimes wondering just how he ever managed with a woman like Lizzy. "I'll make proper arrangements, don't worry. And I'll even give me knees the preparation they need."

"You do that," she coaxed, leaning over to get his keys in the ignition and get the car started. "Where are we going?"

"The casino by the river," Will said darkly. "How much money does Lydia have in her accounts?"

"I wouldn't say terribly much," Lizzy admitted, but then something must have struck her because she went still and silent. "But she's got bonds from family at the bank worth at least a thousand pounds. Will, we have to stop them before he gets that money, it's supposed to be for whatever future Lydia intends to pursue." The last thing anyone needed was for Wickham to get his greasy hands on it and waste it away just because he had winked at Lydia and somehow charmed her so thoroughly that she couldn't see past the gambling issue.

"Don't worry," Will assured as he pressed his foot down harder on the pedal. "We'll stop them."

* * *

Lydia was getting so _bored_ of flashing lights, fruit prizes, and the sound of coins deposited out of stupid machines. She was even more bored of the card games and the roulette. When George had shown up, he'd promised that it would be a romantic getaway and that her mother wouldn't understand and he just wanted to make her feel like she was appreciated and kiss her until he couldn't breathe.

She still wanted so desperately to believe him, but every moment that he chose to play the tables or the slots over her, she began to feel her belief in him waning. "George," she complained, adjusting the strap of her purse and leaning against his back heavily. "I don't care about your cards," she whined, pushing at his back once more. "Can't we just go? You said you'd treat me to a fancy Italian dinner. I even dressed for it!" she insisted with a gesture to her short black dress and her _gorgeous _pumps.

"Lydia, please," he snapped. "I just have to win some money back. We can go soon."

"Fine," she agreed with a heavy sigh, wandering the casino to find a slot machine to plant herself down in front of.

When he had shown up with that bouquet of roses, she really hadn't thought that it would turn out quite like _this_. How _disappointing_! Though, at least Wickham was far more dangerous than Charlie and far more fun than Will. Sometimes she had to wonder how her sisters could have such horrible taste in men.

She idly plunked herself down at a nearby machine and watched Charlie from afar. Whatever luck he seemed to think he had was most definitely absent at the moment. He lost one hand, then the next, then he started to get rather profane what with all the cursing.

She let out a heavy sigh as she leaned her cheek against her hand and wondered why she even bothered to get dressed up if he wasn't going to bother to notice her.

He played one more hand and didn't seem to do so well that time either, which really had Lydia not entirely surprised. What did surprise her was how _calm _he seemed in getting up from the table and approaching her, looking all the world like a different man. She straightened her posture and wiggled slightly in anticipation, ready – _finally_ – to have his full attentions.

"Lydia, I'm sorry," he said so sincerely and with such a fondness that Lydia immediately knew that all her misgivings were completely wrong because with just one look, he was convincing her that he clearly understand all the mistakes he had made. She really couldn't help the extra thrill that rushed through her when he sank down to one knee. "Let me start making it up to you now? Lydia, let's...let's get married!" he insisted with a rush. "I know this. I know that you and your family can make me happy."

If Lydia had been a keener observer, she would have noticed the desperate way he seemed to bring her family into this.

Lydia Bennet was many things. She was beautiful and exuberant and the life of any good party. She wasn't so keen on picking up on the minor inflections of speech. So instead of asking what her family had to do with anything, Lydia could only manage a joyful squeak of elation as she grabbed hold of his hand. "_Yes_! Oh my god, yes! And then I'll even beat Jane to the altar," she added with slight triumph, always hating how her Mama always went on and on about Jane-this and Jane-that.

_Now_ who was the beauty of the family?

"We should do it quickly," George insisted. "I know what I feel for you is real and true, but I'm not sure that your family would understand. Better that we marry first and explain everything to them afterwards."

Every word that he was saying was absolute music to her ears and it all sounded so perfect and rational. She grabbed tighter at his hand to pull him along. "C'mon!"

"Where?"

"Where?" she echoed with a scoff. "I saw a chapel on the way in while you were too busy with your stupid games. Now that you're finally talking sense, we can go get married!" she eagerly announced with delight. "Oh, and then we'll see about all the gifts that I'm owed and all the things I deserve. See if Mama and Daddy will just ignore me when I have a ring on my finger." Sometimes, it really just was unbelievable how thick men could be when it came to planning something out properly.

And at that moment, it wouldn't have taken much keen observation at all to see the devious smirk on George's face.

It simply was that Lydia wasn't looking.

And meanwhile, Will and Lizzy were still a full forty-five minutes away.

tbc


	13. The Runaway Sister

As it stood, Lizzy ought to have been thinking of one thing and one thing alone: her sister was off with George Wickham, most likely at some casino watching a great portion of her savings begin to plummet down the drain. At sixteen, Lydia was still flighty and filled with the whims of a teenager's heart. She was in over her head, not that she could see it.

Speaking of 'over her head', though, Lizzy's thoughts began to drift precariously back in the direction they kept veering towards, no matter how often she reminded herself that there were other things to preoccupy her mind.

Will wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Will Darcy actively wanted to marry her.

It seemed like that night in Switzerland was so long ago, but ever since she had overheard his words, she found herself drifting back there like she couldn't stop herself. Each moment was passed with the reminder of Will's feather-light fingertips against her arms and how he would always surround her body with his own when she was cold – and she was always cold, what with her poor circulation.

"Lizzy?" Will murmured when she shivered. "Are you cold? I can turn up the heat."

"No," she blurted out, cheeks tingeing pink. "No, I'm distracted. You don't need to do anything." A quick glance at the odometer and she felt like amending that. "Maybe go faster," she urged.

The sooner they found Lydia, the sooner that Lizzy wouldn't have to feel so guilty about having these thoughts on seeming loop in her mind. They only strengthened with every time around, sparking a new path of damning notions as she thought about what might happen if they did get it together permanently.

She began to think about waking up in the morning to Will at her side – obviously with the paper, no doubt having already filled in the crossword with _pen_, even, because he knew precisely how it frustrated her so and it seemed like he lived for that some days. He would keep their slippers by the bed and insist on a heavy duvet for her chills. Maybe they'd even get a dog. Lizzy would even promise they could move hours away if Will still feared her Mama so.

Though, Lizzy had never really seen that as a weakness. Her mother was a terrifying woman and people _ought _to be scared of her.

"What's going to happen if he's taken her for all she's worth? What is that man likely to do to my baby sister, Will?" Lizzy asked worriedly, any former thoughts of goodwill towards George Wickham having evaporated over the last several hours.

It only grew more terrifying when Will didn't answer straightaway.

"You're not really inspiring much hope," she said, her words stricken with panic.

"You have to understand," Will said as he took a sharp right, pressing his foot to the gas – and while Lizzy was grateful for the need for speed, she also spared a thought to worry that she might not escape this adventure with her life intact. "What that man did to my sister was horrible. Horrifying. I can't imagine he's improved with time. I wish I could say something to make you feel better, but…"

"But?"

"But I don't want to lie to you, either," Will said quietly.

She supposed she was grateful for that fact, but the casino was still a good twenty minutes away and she knew Lydia well enough to know that she could cause all sorts of havoc in twenty minutes without adding a cute young man into the equation. Lizzy tapped her fingers on the car's upholstery and let her thoughts drift to some calming place, like that would manage to ease her until they arrive.

Naturally, that calming place led her straight back to thoughts of a future with Will.

Maybe they would get a place in the country where she could take daily walks. She could bring a book with her and vanish into the woods for hours without having to worry about the world around her. Or maybe it'd be a city-life in order to be close to Jane and Charlie and the inevitable brood they were likely to have – this thought brought Lizzy back to the worrisome ones, given that she started to worry about Jane's blood pressure and whether the baby was all right.

Lizzy forcibly pulled herself away from the doom and gloom.

"How long now?"

"Ten minutes," Will said. "Don't worry. We'll stop whatever's happened."

"And if we're too late?"

"Then Wickham is going to wish that he was never born," Will replied darkly. While Lizzy would far prefer that nothing had happened to her sister, she was filled with a righteous sense of pleasure that they would ensure that her sister was avenged.

She breathed out steadily, grateful that she wore her thickest combat boots. She'd be able to run in them and if she had to put one of them up Wickham's arse, it was surely going to hurt _and how_. Away from that, she thought. Away from Wickham, back to Will – back to the promise of a potential ring on her finger and a piece of paper and the security that they were going to really make a go of it.

Although, that made her wonder…

"Will," she murmured. "If we did spend the rest of our lives together, what would we do when we fought?"

"Is this really the time?" he snapped.

"Excuse me for not wanting to spend the next eight minutes wrapped in thoughts of the horrible things that might be happening to my sister!"

"So you would rather occupy those seven and a half minutes…"

"Oh, seven and a half, pardon me."

"…arguing about all the worst things that could happen to us?"

"You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me," Lizzy protested, knowing that if they didn't talk about this eventually, it was going to fester and eventually turn up again at a time in their lives when it was completely inappropriate. "Will, you and I can't manage to go two years without something making us call it off. What's going to be different?"

Silence, again.

It was just as terrifying as it had been the last time.

"Do we even know?" Lizzy asked, feeling rather hopeless. "I'm not saying that I want it to be over, even if we are temporarily so, but I want us to know that there's a plan. I want to be able to know that if we do ever get around to 'rest of our lives' that it's going to be solid. I want it to be like Jane and Charlie," she said, giving a soft sigh when she realised that she had been continuously trying to keep them apart selfishly.

Now, it seemed like their determination to stay together was the shining example for what Lizzy wanted out of her own life.

"Lizzy?"

"What?" She tore herself away from the thought to turn her attention back to Will, only noticing that they had parked. "We're here? We're here." She had been looking to this moment since they'd started driving, but now that they arrived, she felt slightly lost. "Where do we start? What do we do?"

Lizzy looked to Will for encouragement, but desperately found the look on his face to be the stuff of nightmares.

"What? What is it?" she demanded.

"There's a wedding chapel."

Lizzy could feel the blood draining from her face, her stomach turning as it twisted into knots. "She wouldn't," she said, trying to convince herself as much as possible. "Will. Please, please tell me that my sister would _not _do that."

This night was only getting worse, given how Will practically yanked the door off its handle and escorted Lizzy to her feet, pushing through the parking lot in the direction of the chapel and not the casino, which meant that they were going off the notion that this was actually happening. Lizzy only wished that she disagreed with the possibility.

She also needed to stop calling it a 'possibility'.

As soon as they made it into the small venue, two things were clear. The first was that Lydia's desperate need to look good hadn't vanished with time or Wickham's presence. The second was that her vanity might have saved them.

"I am not getting married wearing that _plastic_ tiara," Lydia was protesting. "I thought you _understood_me."

Wickham looked caught between annoyance and anger.

Lizzy stormed over, eager to introduce 'pain' into that equation. "Lydia Bennet!" she roared. "What on earth do you think you're doing? Do you know how out of her mind with worry Mama has been? What about Jane? What about all of us? And you did this over…what? A somewhat-attractive douchebag?" She hoped to hell that Wickham was more insulted than he looked. "I'll get to you later," she swore, giving him the side-eye. "Lydia," Lizzy said, stalking forward and catching her sister by the wrist. "What are you _doing_?"

"Everyone was so preoccupied with Jane, I didn't even think anyone would notice."

While it was utterly and completely selfish, Lizzy forced herself to try and imagine where Lydia was coming from. It was true that Jane's wedding had been co-opting the family's attention, but Jane never asked for anything. She still hadn't told the others about the baby, which Lizzy was partially grateful for. God only knew how Lydia would act out if she knew about that.

"Lydia," Lizzy sighed.

"I think your sister can make her own decisions," Wickham said haughtily.

"And I think that Lizzy deserves a minute with her sister," Will cut in darkly. Lizzy never loved him as much as she did in this moment, where she took hold of Wickham's arms, twisting them behind his back to give them some space. She'd have to revisit how that made her feel later – when she could also thank Will properly.

Lizzy turned to Lydia, delicately prying away the small veil from her hands as she brushed a stray lock of hair from out of her face. "Think about this," she pleaded. "You'll marry him, stay with him long enough until he can burn through your savings, then he'll dump you. You're young, Lydia, you are so young," Lizzy protested, trying not to think about precisely how young that was. "If you're really only doing this to spite me for pushing over Wickham or to thieve Jane's spotlight, you have to know those are the wrong reasons and if you are feeling that way, we can do something about it."

"Like?" Lydia asked suspiciously.

"Maybe Jane will make you the maid of honour?" Lizzy suggested. While it was something that she knew was meant to be her role, if it meant that they could keep their family together and prevent this insane wedding from happening, she was more than happy to offer it as consolation prize.

It seemed enough to buoy Lydia's hopes.

"Lydia…" Wickham pleaded, seemingly well-attuned to the fact that he was losing the only hook that he had.

Lizzy grasped tight to this foothold, not knowing if she was going to be able to keep it if she didn't keep charging forward. "Jane loves you," she insisted passionately. "So do I. If you were getting married, we'd want to be there for you and we'd want it to be with someone that you loved instead of someone who's there at the opportune moment. Tell me that you truly love him and I'll rethink it. I mean _truly_."

That seemed to cause enough doubt in Lydia to make her pause.

"Please," Lizzy begged. "Think about this."

It was as if that did it. The flood began to wash over Lydia and Lizzy knew the moment that everything would be okay because guilt showed up in spades on Lydia's face. While Lizzy felt bad that her sister was feeling this way, she also felt victorious.

"And you," she swore, turning her attention on Wickham as she stormed closer to where Will was still holding him captive. "You absolutely no-good arsehole. My sister. My sister after what you did to Will's sister, after what you did to so many women out there."

"I…"

"No!" Lizzy interrupted. "What you probably would've done to me," she continued on her tirade, as mad as she had ever been. She saw, now, that all those arguments with Will had merely been a warm-up for the grand event. "I wish that I could feed you to the dogs. I wish there were some sense of justice that I could invoke to make you feel what you made those girls feel, but I doubt you'd know what remorse was like," she said derisively. "So I'm taking my sister home with me and if I ever see you again, you're going to wish that you and I had never crossed paths," she swore icily.

"Is it my turn?" Will asked, tightening his hold.

"Lydia and I will be in the car," Lizzy said after weighing the merit of calling Will off versus letting him have whatever revenge he might want.

She held out her hand to her sister, smiling encouragingly when Lydia took it with a hopeful smile.

"So," Lydia murmured as they walked down the aisle out of the wedding chapel. "Exactly how much trouble am I in with Mama?"

"Oh, Lydia. I think you may very well be grounded for life."

tbc


End file.
